


Sherlock, John, and the Doctor

by HelenaHermione



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaHermione/pseuds/HelenaHermione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mycroft contacts Sherlock and John to investigate an alien known as the Doctor, it's the chance of a lifetime for them to discover strange new worlds, explore the past, and connect. As for the Doctor, he gets more than he bargained for. (Series/Season 1 for both shows, will progress. Johnlock, Doctor/Rose, other than that, I don't know. Surprises/canon change in store.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Blue Box

**Ten years ago…**

The blue box had crash-landed in the yard of his family estate. He approached the box cautiously, surrounded on either side by guards, and mentally noted the dimensions and identified the box as a police call box from the 1950s, although with the way it had crash-landed here like some sort of aircraft, he was willing to bet that it wasn't an ordinary police call box.

The blue box's door opened and he halted, along with his guards, aiming their guns at the box and the occupant inside. "Hello?" He called out in his best sympathetic voice. "Are you hurt? Can we get you some help?"

There was a pause as they waited for answer and then he heard a laugh, a sinister, cunning laugh that intrigued and thrilled him. "I'm fine, just fine. Never better, in fact. It's the best I've felt in years, except for…well, I can't help that for now."

"Stand down, gentlemen, just relax." He ordered, turning to his guards before he slowly approached the box's doorway. "My name is Jim. James Moriarty, in fact." He said as he peered through the box's opening and gasped. "What's yours?" He managed to say, stunned and excited by what he saw inside. This was going to provide him with a load of opportunities, he could already tell.

The man with the maniacal laugh peered out of the opening and studied him intently. "Well, Jim, my name is the Master and I can tell we are already going to be the best of friends."

"The best of friends, of course." James slowly nodded, eying the Master as well. "The 'You help me and I help you' type of friends?"

"Precisely." The Master nodded.

"I like the sound of that." James said before they laughed together and then coughed, feeling slightly awkward together in that moment.

"Guards," James snapped his fingers and the guards drew to attention. "Help the Master gather his box together and take it up to the manor. We're going to have a load of work to do to get this thing in working order again. I assume it is broken?" He asked the Master.

"Yes, unfortunately, the type of parts and technology that I need to patch this thing up don't exist yet or will never exist, depending." The Master sighed.

"Hmm, a curious thing." James said before he shrugged. "Well, can't be helped, I suppose. We shall have to make do and find the best replacements possible or make our own." James turned to the guard heading back to the manor and told him, "Have some scientists ready on standby as soon as possible. We may need some assistance."

"Is this your place?" The Master asked, staring up at the manor.

"It is mine, insofar as it belongs to my family." James said before he asked, "Is that your box?"

"This old ratty thing? Yes and no." The Master said, turning to James. "It is mine now. Your place, can it be mine as well?"

"We shall share it, just like we share this box, for as long as you like." James said. "Is that a deal?"

The Master hesitated, glancing back and forth between James and the guard standing off to the side before he said, "Deal."

"Perfect." James smiled. "Just perfect."

**Present day(ish)…**

"A Henriks department store just blew up, a few blocks away from Trafalgar Square." Anthea told Mycroft, typing on her phone. Mycroft frowned and looked up from the newspaper he was just reading, out of boredom, to ensure that the certified stories and facts were straight and on topic, and to smirk at how wrong they got it half the time. "Police and emergency services are already on their way there." She told him.

"Henriks?" Mycroft grimaced. "One of those urbane teen outfitters, I suppose, but it doesn't make any sense." He closed and folded up the newspaper. "Why would anyone want to blow up such a place, much less shop there, unless they really hated clothes?"

"A statement of some sort that London isn't secure?" Anthea remarked.

"Perhaps, though it is an oblique one, aside from location. Get me CCTV footage of the surrounding area, before and after." Mycroft said, standing up and walking over to the bank of monitors set up against one wall. One of his personnel obeyed his order, switching all of the monitors to the CCTV cameras in that general vicinity, and rewound the footage to an hour or two before the incident.

Anthea joined them to peruse and examine the footage as it played out at double speed. "Camera 442981, stop at the mark." Anthea called out and the personnel member did at the 30 minute mark before the explosion. "Look here, sir." She called to Mycroft.

He came over and, after a quick glance, said, "There is a gentleman in a leather jacket, jumper, and dark trousers running towards the department store. The terrorist?"

"Look to the shadows." Anthea told Mycroft before she told the personnel member, "Play it back a couple of minutes and then restart it at regular speed."

Mycroft watched and then his eyes widened before he smiled. "Good for you, Anthea, you've spotted a Doctor. The Doctor, I should say, though he does look a bit different from what we're used to. One of his latest incarnations, I imagine." Mycroft frowned to himself. "What is he doing here and why did he blow up a store? Keep playing the footage here, I want to know when he comes back to the TARDIS and if anyone is accompanying him." He told the personnel member.

"He usually does have some sort of companion with him, doesn't he?" Anthea asked.

"Yes, the ones we're used to usually do, however, this Doctor appears to be traveling alone. No one came out with him, did they?" Anthea shook her head and Mycroft continued, "Precisely my point. This Doctor is alone and different from all the rest. He could be dangerous and unpredictable to a certain degree, even with a companion to help him, but without one, he is worse than my brother."

Anthea grimaced and then asked, "Your brother does have a companion now, though, Dr. John Watson? How is that going?"

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, that's right, Dr. John Watson seems like a respectable, responsible, able-bodied man who is capable of keeping up with my brother and keeping him in check to a certain degree, though he can't always control or follow my brother's actions. They seem to be getting along together now, as best as they can considering my brother's temperament and character and John's condition. I give it a few more weeks before it comes crashing down."

"That's what you said last month." Anthea said. "You still owe me 30 pounds."

"I'll pay you later." Mycroft added, rolling his eyes before he paused. "Roll back the footage a couple of minutes." He told the personnel member.

The person complied, and then Mycroft and Anthea watched as a blond teenage girl, holding some sort of rubber or plastic arm, raced down the sidewalk and across the street from the direction of Henriks' department store, looking harried and nervous as she kept glancing about. She paused and looked back at the department store, towards its roof, just before it exploded. She then raced off, past the TARDIS without seeing it, though.

"She saw something." Mycroft said. "She was in the department store. And I bet you another 30 pounds that she met the Doctor. I need a name, facts, and details concerning this young woman and then I need her interviewed and followed for at least two more weeks to be certain."

"Why?" Anthea asked, turning to Mycroft. "What's your concern with her?"

"The Doctor might be concerned with her if he helped her and pushed her out of the store before it exploded." Mycroft said. "He might even be concerned enough to ask her to travel along with him. Now who can we trust-" Mycroft hesitated, glancing at Anthea before he sighed. "Get Sherlock on the phone already and get me all of the files on the Doctor that we've got. I need to update Sherlock on the situation here so that he can appraise and examine it to the best of his abilities. Try to get him interested in it." Mycroft muttered, shaking his head.

**An hour later…**

"Oh, isn't it terrible?" Mrs. Hudson said, shaking her head as she watched the department store burn on the television. "Right here in the heart of London! Who could have done such a thing?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Mrs. Hudson." John said, glancing at his landlady. It might have been a little odd that she came up here to share this experience with her tenants, but then again, she was a motherly type of person, who needed some comfort as well. "The department store was closed, after all, the staff had already left. Whoever blew it up did so with almost no casualties involved."

"There probably will be some missing or suspected personnel who might have blown up the store, or might have even been caught in there." Sherlock added from where he sulked in his armchair, watching the television with a blank expression. "You can't say there are absolutely no casualties at this rate."

"Sherlock, please don't upset Mrs. Hudson." Watson hissed at him before his phone rang. Curious, he picked it up and frowned. "Mycroft is calling me. Sherlock, what did you do with your phone?"

"I threw it in the trash as soon as I heard about this explosion." Sherlock said. "I knew he would try contacting me to—John, no!" Sherlock cried, but it was already too late as John had answered.

"Hello?" John said, Sherlock sulking even further as John listened. "Yes, he's here, and no, he doesn't want to speak to you at the moment."

"Tell him it's obviously a terrorist plot and that's his job, not mine." Sherlock said. "If he didn't want to deal with terrorists, then he shouldn't have gotten into politics in the first place."

"Sherlock, be nice." Mrs. Hudson hissed at him. "You should help him. He's your brother, after all, and it's for an important cause."

"I wish he weren't. He's my nemesis!" Sherlock said.

"He-" John frowned as he listened and then turned to Sherlock. "Mycroft says it's not a terrorist plot and it involves…an extraterrestrial alien called the Doctor."

"What?" Sherlock sat up, aghast. "What kind of idiot does he think I am?"

"Alien?" Mrs. Hudson gasped. "Oh my god, it's finally happened! There really are aliens!"

"He says to check your laptop, all of the information has been sent to you." John added. "And we're supposed to also check up on a Rose Tyler at the Powell Estate. She worked at Henriks. Is that it?" John asked Mycroft, listening to him for a minute more with wide eyes, and then nodded. "No problem. Okay then, good-bye." John hung up.

"What was that about?" Sherlock eyed John.

"Nothing." John shook his head, not wanting to tell Sherlock what his brother had just said. It was quite a nice compliment, though.

Sherlock sighed, glancing at the TV again and coverage on the Henriks explpsion. "There's nothing on here of any real value. It's probably one big joke, but I suppose I shall still check out what my brother just sent." Sherlock stood up and headed towards his bedroom, pausing to turn back to John. "Just don't volunteer my services to him again without my say-so, okay?"

"Okay, then, good night, Sherlock." John said, nodding.

"Good night, John." Sherlock said, closing the door.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "Aren't you two going to bed together?"

"We're not a couple!" John groaned to himself. He thought he heard a stifled laugh from the direction of Sherlock's room, but ignored it. "Good night, Mrs. Hudson." He added.

"Good night, John." Mrs. Hudson said, looking bemused and amused as she slowly extracted herself from the couch and left the flat.

A few minutes later, as John was still watching TV, bored and tired, but not yet exhausted enough to go to sleep himself, he heard several expletives followed by a couple of shouts coming from the direction of Sherlock's closed bedroom. John hesitated, wondering what was bothering him or exciting him so much before Sherlock's door opened. John turned about and stared in horror and fascination at the crazed expression on Sherlock's face.

"The alien is real." Sherlock panted. "The Doctor is real. Come check it out." He waved him over.

"Really?" John asked, leaping over the couch and racing over to see what Sherlock was talking about. Sherlock yammered about a mile a minute as John read the files and even saw some footage taken from organizations like UNIT and Torchwood over several decades. "Oh my god," John said at one piece of footage in particular, which examined the size and dimensions of a large blue box inside a UNIT lab and then went inside the box, revealing a large, alien-looking room totally different from its surroundings. "But that's completely absurd, impossible." John said, leaning in further as the camera went deeper and deeper into the 'TARDIS'. "Is that a swimming pool?" John asked at one point.

"I would like to meet this alien, this Doctor." Sherlock said, examining another file on Rose Tyler. "And she just might be the ticket to him." Sherlock smiled. "We're going to the Powell Estate, first thing in the morning."

"Count me in." John nodded. "I would like to take a look at this thing myself."


	2. Harmless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John arrive to question Rose in her flat, meeting the Doctor for the first time--from 'Rose',

The alarm rang that morning, waking Rose, and she was briefly disconcerted enough to think that she should get up, get dressed, and ready for work. But then her mother shouted at her, reminding her that she didn't have a job anymore because it all burned down, thanks to that mysterious Doctor fellow and those plastic men, Rose mentally added. Rose silently thanked the Doctor for a moment in that she didn't have to work at Henriks' anymore, a snotty, ritzy, and too fabulous of a place (and too expensive for her) that she hadn't been able to stand and only worked at because it was one of the few decent jobs that she could get with her education and lack of experience.

But now she didn't have a job anymore, no way of earning a decent wage to help support herself and her mother, and she wasn't better off than she was before in terms of work experience to boost up her resume. She and her mother were facing a serious lack of funds right now and it wasn't likely that she would immediately find a job to help support them. Bare cupboards wasn't going to be as much of an issue as the fact that they would have to rely on others now, including Mickey and maybe one of her Mum's boyfriends, to help them out if they got into a tight spot, like if the washing machine broke and they couldn't afford a repairman.

She hated the thought of that. She often wished that she and her mum were independent and well-off enough that they could afford to take care of themselves without relying on others for help. She sighed to herself, lying in bed alone now with nothing to do, and wished the day would end right here with nothing to occupy her time, except for TV, reading, and boredom. But she got up, got dressed, and listened to her mum blabber on about getting a job at the butcher's and seeking compensation. It never ended.

There was a knock on the door and she frowned to herself, wondering who that could be as she got up and answered the door to two blokes, one a tall, lanky sort of fellow with dark, curly hair and the other a shorter, homely sort of fellow, maybe about her height or smaller, with blond, short hair. The short fellow had a laptop bag slung across his shoulders. "Hello, Miss. Rose Tyler?" The tall fellow said. "We're with Scotland Yard, and we wish to speak to you about the Doctor you met last night at Henriks' before it blew up. May we come in?" He smiled in a cold way.

Rose gaped at them, shocked. How did they know? Who was this Doctor person that Scotland Yard was looking for him? A criminal, probably, if he wasn't a terrorist. "I can't really say much about him." She said, nervous as she glanced down. "I only met him once last night. He sort of saved my life, or at least got me out of there before it exploded." She frowned. "It was weird. There were plastic mannequins, or people dressed up as plastic mannequins, and they were chasing after us."

"Plastic mannequins." The tall fellow slowly nodded and turned to the shorter fellow. "Wasn't there something in the UNIT files about plastic, the Automatons? Autons?" He corrected himself.

"Autons?" Rose incredulously repeated.

"I think so." The shorter man shrugged. "You know those files better than me."

"I don't know what this is all about, but he warned me that I shouldn't say much about him." Rose added. "He said it would mean death for anyone else."

"Of course. Miss. Tyler," The tall man inhaled, addressing her again, "We want to share with you some information regarding the Doctor, just in case you come across him again."

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" The shorter man hissed. "Mycroft will be very upset with us."

"Well, then he shouldn't have told us about this in the first place if he didn't want us to talk about it." The taller man hissed back.

"I think this is where the Secrets Act is supposed to come in here." The shorter man said.

"Shut up." The tall man muttered.

Rose blinked and said, "All right, come in." She didn't know what was going on here, she didn't exactly trust these guys either, but she waved them through into the flat, hoping to find out more about the mysterious stranger from last night.

"Excellent." The tall man said, entering with the shorter man following and shaking his head. What had she gotten herself into?

"Rose, who is that at the door?" Her mother called out.

"It's just some investigators with the inquiry." Rose told her as the tall fellow and the short fellow walked past her mum's bedroom. "They'll only be here ten minutes. Can you leave us alone for a bit?"

"It might be an hour." The tall fellow added before he moved on.

"An hour? All right then," Rose's mum huffed, annoyed at being driven out of her own home by two men and her daughter, and then she caught sight of the shorter fellow. "Hello, there." She said, straightening up a bit and tossing her hair back to show off her breasts. "I'm alone with a strange man in my bedroom. Anything can happen." She winked.

Before the short man could open his mouth, the tall man shouted, "No! Come along, John." The short man shrugged and walked on by as Rose's mum huffed and continued to get ready to leave the flat. Rose smirked behind her hand.

"Does she flirt with every strange man that walks into her flat?" The short man remarked as he, Rose, and the tall man entered the living room.

"Sometimes she does. So what's this all about, then?" Rose murmured, settled down on the sofa. "And can I get some names from you two since you happen to know mine?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend, Dr. John Watson." The tall fellow introduced themselves as the short fellow waved. Rose waved back at him, feeling awkward. "John, get out the laptop and the Doctor's files." Sherlock told his friend (boyfriend? No.) "We must apprise Miss. Tyler, full disclosure, on what we're dealing with here." As Watson did that, Sherlock steepled his fingers and turned to Miss. Tyler. "This is very difficult to explain, but we shall try…"

About half an hour later, with Rose's mum already gone on some errands or to visit a boyfriend, Rose shook her head with everything that she had just read, heard, and seen about the Doctor. "No, I don't believe you." She said, facing Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. "This is all just fake, obviously. It can't be real. Aliens do not exist. The Doctor can't be alien."

"I was just as much a skeptic as you are not more than 24 hours ago," Sherlock Holmes said. "When there was very little scientific evidence for it as far as I knew of. But now that I have seen all of this information, which came from the highest civil authority in the land and from these respected, renowned agencies, even I believe."

"And it's very hard to get him to believe anything. Trust me, I know." John said.

Rose scoffed. "He would believe anything, I bet."

"It might sound outlandish, something only the feeble-minded would accept, but this level of scientific, government detail cannot be denied or fabricated from nothing." Sherlock said. "The Doctor is real, an alien Time Lord, and you have had contact with him. We are interested in finding out more about him and what he is doing here."

"Maybe he's dealing with the plastic Autons?" John asked and shrugged. "That's the only logical thing I can think of right now."

Rose scoffed and muttered, "Autons, what ridiculous nonsense."

"Excellent point, John, but there's got to be more to it than meets the eye." Sherlock frowned to himself. "I can't help but wonder where he has been for these past few years. He has been missing, absent, off of UNIT's and Torchwood's radar for a long time now. Even for a Time Lord like him, who can travel through space and time, for nine years or more the Doctor has not been seen in any form anywhere."

"Space and time?" Rose frowned to herself. It sound too good to be true.

"In any form?" John asked, frowning to himself as he reached over to the laptop. "I could have sworn there were some scattered reports indicating the Doctor might have popped up here and there-"

"Rumors, fiction, unsubstantiated reports, irrelevant details that have no bearing on any important events." Sherlock insisted. "The Doctor is a ghost at this point, a mere shadow of his former self. We're trying to draw him out of the shadows and figure out what has happened to him, where or when he has been hiding."

Rose cleared her throat, starting to get worried by the fact that there were two strange men ranting and raving about aliens and science fiction stuff with her alone in the flat. And she had almost started to believe them. Why did her mother have to go off and leave her here? She felt vulnerable at this point. Then she heard the cat flap moving in the distance and, wondering if a stray had gotten in, she went off to check it out as John and Sherlock continued arguing.

"We're getting nowhere." Sherlock said, shaking his head. "The Doctor isn't here anymore, he isn't going to show up-"

Suddenly, Sherlock and John heard a snatch of conversation coming from the front door between Rose and another man with a northern accent, and the two men poked their heads out to see the Doctor had arrived, according to Mycroft's surveillance footage. They were absolutely flabbergasted and excited by his appearance. They had heard about him only last night, but already he had been built up into a legend in their own minds. He knocked Rose on the head for some reason, Sherlock assumed it was to check if she was plastic if he was searching for the Autons, and then she pulled the Doctor inside.

"Listen, these two whacko men here think you're some kind of alien, which is ridiculous." Rose started to say, pointing at the strangers, not noticing how the Doctor stopped and gaped at them.

"Who are you two people?" The Doctor asked, darkening as John fidgeted under his harsh gaze. "Where did you come from, who do you work for?" Rose frowned to herself, wondering what was going on with this confrontation.

"We're with Scotland Yard." Sherlock said, not quailing as he assessed the Doctor's appearance and noted his emotional stress the harsh exterior. "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this is my assistant, Dr. John Watson. It is…an honor to meet you, Doctor." Sherlock truly meant that.

"Assistant?" John muttered to himself.

"The pleasure isn't mine." The Doctor growled. "Can't you people leave me alone?" Sherlock felt slightly offended, but mollified himself.

"What are you doing here?" John asked the Doctor, intimidated but standing up for himself.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock asked before the Doctor could answer 'It's none of your business'. "He's looking for the Autons or something like that, probably using his sonic screwdriver to scan for them."

Rose laughed, trying to relieve the tension. "Sonic screwdriver, see, this is the kind of ridiculous things these two have come up with."

"Yeah, sonic screwdriver, ridiculous." The Doctor said, trying to look nonchalant even though he felt offended by her ridicule. His sonic screwdriver was a useful device, a scientific tool he had used to save his life more than once. He stiffened and then asked Sherlock, "How did you two find out so much about me? Who else knows about this?"

"Well, if it isn't obvious," Sherlock started to explain the situation to the Doctor and Rose, both of them skeptic for different reasons, as John turned around, thinking he had heard or seen something dart behind the armchair. He extracted himself from the conversation, not really being noticed at this point, to check out what was behind there. Suddenly, a plastic arm leapt out from behind the armchair and attacked John, trying to choke and strangle him.

The Doctor, Rose, and then Sherlock looked up and round to see what was going on as Rose asked, "What is it with men and plastic arms?"

"John!" Sherlock shouted, darting into the room to try and wrench the plastic arm off of his friend, but then it flew around and attacked Sherlock instead.

"Sherlock!" John shouted, and tried to struggle with the plastic arm strangling Sherlock, both of them falling and crashing into the glass coffee table.

The Doctor and Rose stood off to the side, watching the scene in shock and horror, and then for some reason, the Doctor started laughing helplessly. Rose frowned and elbowed him sharply. "Ow! What you did you do that for?" The Doctor asked, rubbing the sore spot.

"They're in trouble! Can't you help them?" Rose asked, starting to realize that this was a serious situation, and maybe all of the alien stuff was true, with the way that plastic arm had spun round in midair.

The Doctor sighed and said, "All right," reaching into his coat pocket to remove—

"Is that your sonic screwdriver?" Rose said, laughing in spite of herself as she saw the small device.

"Hey, don't laugh! This is a real lifesaver here and I should know!" The Doctor insisted, waving the device, before he jumped into the fray and depowered the homicidal plastic arm. "See? Harmless." He said, tossing the arm back at Rose, who then hit him with it. "Ow! What was that for?" He asked her.

"For taking so long." Rose said, glancing down at her other two visitors, lying on the floor and gasping for breath, both of them bruised and scratched by the fall, glass, and strangulation with marks and nicks left behind. Not to mention the wreck of a coffee table. Her mother wasn't going to like this mess one bit. "They could have been killed." Rose said, realizing how dangerous this whole situation was.

"Clever observation." Sherlock managed to say. He had been through worse than this before, though he couldn't exactly remember when.

"It's what they deserve. This is why you don't go messing about in things you don't understand!" The Doctor shouted at them, further annoying Sherlock. "You could have been killed. Next time, stay well clear of me, you got that?"

"Got it." John muttered, feeling tired, beaten, and having just about enough of it.

"How dare you threaten them like this." Rose said, feeling offended.

"They threatened me." The Doctor told her. He truly did seem alien in that moment.

"Wait a minute here!" Sherlock shouted, standing up. "You can't just dismiss us like this, Doctor. We want to help you."

"Help him?" John asked, staring up at Sherlock. "When did this become about helping him? We wanted to learn more about him, but now we should be helping ourselves by getting out of here." John added.

"Help me? No, I've had enough of this. I'm getting out of here." The Doctor muttered, taking off.

"Hold on a minute, you can't just go swanning off like this!" Rose shouted at the Doctor, taking off after him.

"I'm not letting you leave either!" Sherlock shouted after the Doctor before he turned around to his friend still lying on the floor. "The game is afoot, John! Get up, we're leaving before he can get away from us!"

"Can't I just rest here for one minute more?" John asked.

"There is no time!" Sherlock shouted, leaving the flat.

"Isn't there always supposed to be time with a Time Lord?" John muttered to himself, but he got up and followed after them.


	3. Melodramatic and Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock are properly introduced to the Doctor, leading to a discussion on melodrama and camp, and a troubled separation.

After John paused to fish out Sherlock's laptop from the wreckage of the coffee table, Sherlock and John hurried down the staircase, out into the alleyway, and then across the Powell Estate after the Doctor and Rose, hearing them arguing from afar until that arguing slowly turned into some light-hearted banter and conversation. Sherlock held himself and John back from disrupting their conversation, intrigued in spite of his wish to interrogate the Doctor himself to let it continue flowing and see how it progressed.

He wondered for a moment if Rose was attaching herself to the Doctor. The Doctor certainly didn't seem to mind having her there as he explained the situation to her. Perhaps there was the chance that this Doctor, who had been alone when he had showed up at Henriks without a companion by his side, wouldn't be so alone for much longer. He wanted to see how this relationship developed between a Doctor and his companion firsthand.

John, however, was starting to sporadically limp a little bit with the stress of the situation turning into a nightmare and then dully fading away into an ache as the stress, thrill, and adrenaline faded as well. Not to mention all of that walking. He was starting to get bored and agitated, wondering what they should be doing here. He wanted to keep up with the Doctor and Rose too, worried about the girl and interested in the alien, but he wondered if it was really worth all of this bother and aggravation to him and Sherlock.

There was the Doctor's threat, after all, that they could get themselves killed just by following after him and with what he and Sherlock had read, seen, and just now experienced, perhaps they should take that threat seriously. He wondered if they should leave, since they weren't even involving themselves with the Doctor and Rose, just following after them. He didn't see the point in it, even if Sherlock seemed distracted by it.

"Oh, what are you two doing now?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face Sherlock and John following after them like a pair of puppy dogs on the edge of the Powell Estate. "Go home, shoo, fly away, little ducklings."

"Little ducklings?" John asked, offended as he limped up towards them, having fallen behind a little bit. "Who does he think we are?"

"I happen to think of myself as a swan." Sherlock remarked.

"Or a whooping crane." The Doctor joked, and then noticed John's limp. "What's the matter with him?" He asked. "Shouldn't he be taking it easy?"

"Oh, the limp is psychosomatic, it's all in his head." Sherlock said, dismissive.

"Thanks for noticing." John muttered, rolling his eyes.

"The head's still a troubling place." The Doctor said. "You need to get that tended to."

"Tried therapy before, didn't exactly work." John said before pointing at Sherlock. "Running around with him, solving cases, seems to make it better and worse at the same time."

"Thank you, John, I think." Sherlock hesitated. "John's a veteran army doctor with PTSD and a shoulder injury from Afghanistan, much like you, Doctor, with your own war injuries and emotional distress. What are you hiding?" Sherlock asked the Doctor.

The Doctor stopped, feeling like he had been hit hard in the chest with two tonnes and his hearts were split with that fresh reminder. Who did this man, this human ape who thought he knew better, analyzing and seeing through the Doctor like this, yet not seeing him at all, think he was? John hissed, realizing how insensitive Sherlock was being at the Doctor's reaction. Not every soldier could recover from or even recognize their wounds.

"War injuries?" Rose murmured, now concerned about both John and the Doctor.

"It's fine enough." John said. "It fades." He said for both himself and the Doctor's benefit.

"Not always. Not entirely." The Doctor said, staring at the two men standing before him, really seeing them for the first time, the headstrong, self-denying, self-deprecating veteran and the arrogant, uncaring, dismissive genius, and saw two halves of himself. It was heart-wrenching. He asked, "Who are you?"

"Dr. John Watson here, and I am Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said as John waved. "I'm a consulting detective with Scotland Yard, the only consulting detective in the world. John assists me."

"Is that the only thing he does?" Rose asked, amused as John blushed, though she was half-serious as she wondered if Sherlock only saw him as an assistant, not as a friend or something more.

"For now." Sherlock shrugged, not quite knowing what else to say. John bit his lip, not really wanting to say anything at the present moment.

"A detective named Sherlock Holmes and his army buddy Dr. John Watson…why does that sound so familiar to me?" The Doctor asked.

"Perhaps you've heard of us in the future?" John asked, optimistic. "I just started a blog about our adventures. We haven't had that many cases yet, but perhaps we will gain some notoriety."

"Adventures? Fame? A blog?" Sherlock groaned. "This will be the death of me."

"Who wouldn't want to be famous?" Rose asked.

"Me." The Doctor added, as Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Don't be so melodramatic." John told Sherlock. "It's just fun, a hobby to pass away the time."

"You're the one who's melodramatic." Sherlock said. "The way you write, everyone expects me to fall over and weep, full of remorse. I'm not that way. You're the one who wrote my character that way! It's fictional misrepresentation!"

"Is there such a thing?" Rose asked.

"I've gotten it all of the time." The Doctor said. "And I know people who were misrepresented as well. Marie Antoinette wasn't so bad, you know." Rose's eyes widened at that.

"At least I'm not the one who's bored all the time and firing at the wall!" John shouted at Sherlock as the Doctor frowned. "You can't control your actions. If you can't call that melodramatic, I don't know what you can."

"Well, not all of us have the ability to hide our boredom and feign interest in the world, which you do all too well." Sherlock said.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"You hide everything, John, even from yourself. I don't have that ability! I am a high-functioning sociopath, but still a sociopath and a genius! I know all too well what goes on in my mind and all around me." Sherlock said as Rose took a step back, away from him, and the Doctor sighed at both her reaction and Sherlock's words.

"Not everything, not always." John said. "You don't know half of what goes on around you when you see surface details and characteristic traits. You don't know half of what goes on in other people's hearts and minds."

"Bully for you, John." Rose remarked.

"Both of you are melodramatic." The Doctor added, rolling his eyes.

"And what about you, Doctor?" Sherlock asked. "Are you melodramatic?"

"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. It just depends. I could be camp as well." The Doctor grinned as Rose laughed. "And Rose can be, too, I bet. How about you two? Can you be camp as well?" He asked the boys.

"We can be." John said as Sherlock glared at him.

"Great, perfect." The Doctor nodded. "Smashing, in fact. I think we can get along well."

"We can?" Both Sherlock and John asked, shocked, causing Rose and the Doctor to laugh.

Rose asked the Doctor who he was and he gave a speech about the turn of the earth and falling through space, grabbing Rose's hand before he let go of it, as Sherlock and John noticed the TARDIS in the distance behind the Doctor's shoulder. "Definitely melodramatic." Sherlock said as John nodded.

"Shut up." The Doctor muttered to them, walking off towards the TARDIS and shaking his head as Rose turned around and starting walking back home, not wanting to go and leave the Doctor, yet uncertain if she could travel with him. With everything the Doctor, Sherlock, and John had told her, she knew the Doctor wasn't normal, that he was an alien who went on all of these adventures, yet she didn't know if she could keep up with him.

"Come along, John." Sherlock said, heading after the Doctor when he refused to let him go, but John hesitated, looking after Rose, who seemed lost and alone. He felt bad for her.

"Shouldn't we follow after her?" John asked. "Mycroft did ask us to watch out for her and tail her." That was only half true, he knew, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"But the Doctor is leaving. Mycroft wanted us to find the Doctor." Sherlock insisted. "He's the most important one here. He might never be coming back." He added.

"No." John said, shaking his head and turning away to run after Rose. "You can go after the Doctor on your own."

"What? John-" Sherlock started to say, feeling betrayed and torn between the Doctor and John.

"I'm sorry!" John cried back, vanishing.

"Damn the man!" Sherlock shouted, sprinting after the Doctor instead. John would be fine on his own for now. Perhaps he might convince the Doctor to return sometime soon.

The Doctor had gotten the TARDIS door open and was heading inside when Sherlock pushed past him. "Oh no, not you! Get out!" The Doctor shouted, trying to stop Sherlock and haul him out of there, but Sherlock had pressed a button and the TARDIS started to dematerialize.

John winced when he heard that sound, but he continued following after Rose and caught up with her. "Hello, there." John said, smiling at her. "Mind if I join you for awhile?"

"Where's your friend?" Rose asked, looking around.

"He went with the Doctor." John told her.

"Oh. All right, I suppose you can tag along for a little while." Rose sighed and nodded. "I'm heading to my boyfriend's flat to get on his computer-"

"I've got one right here! A laptop, I mean, Sherlock's." John added, patting Sherlock's laptop bag.

"Can I use it to look up some more information on the Doctor?" Rose asked.

John nodded and they sat down in the empty field, booting up the laptop and researching the Doctor for a bit until the laptop's battery started to fade, but by then, they had gone through the files some more and found contact information for a man named Clive, a residential expert on him. "You've got a car we can use to go see him?" Rose asked John.

"No, and I'm low on funds for a cab all the way out to the suburbs." He told her.

"My boyfriend Mickey can help us." Rose said and so they set off with Mickey driving his yellow bug, occasionally throwing suspicious glances at John in the backseat, to see Clive.

Rose and John got out of the car, leaving Mickey behind, as they met Clive and went out to his shed. Rose gaped over the photographs and evidence of the Doctor's passage through time, but John got bored with the whole thing, especially when Clive didn't know much about the Doctor, just bits and pieces. John left early and headed back to the car, only to find Mickey was gone.

"Mickey?" John called, looking round for him as he rested his hand on a nearby trash can. "Where are you?" He muttered and tried to let go of the trash can, but couldn't. Before he knew it, he was swallowed up by it, and everything went dark.

Rose returned to the car, muttering about Clive being a nutter, as John and Mickey sat, stiff and plastic, inside the car. "I fancy a pizza." Rose said and both Auton John and Auton Mickey repeated the word.

* * *

"You're running away again, aren't you?" Sherlock asked the Doctor, not fully ready yet to look around and appreciate the TARDIS. "Abandoning us to the Nestene and Autons?"

"No, I'm not!" The Doctor cried. "I didn't intend to leave, not completely anyway! I came in here to get this arm analyzed and to look for the Nestene Consciousness frequency that's controlling it! You should have figured that out by now if you're some kind of great detective!" He wasn't completely lying .

"Oh." Sherlock said, realizing he might have made some big mistake in messing with the TARDIS, taking them away. "So you will be returning back there?"

"No, I'm tracking the signal to wherever it might take me. Might not even be the same time period at this rate." The Doctor said, taking the arm over to some kind of scanning device on the console. "Where's John? Shouldn't he have barged in here with you?" The Doctor asked, looking around.

"He stayed behind. He chose to go after Rose instead." Sherlock said, concerned about him.

"So you abandoned him?" The Doctor said, attaching the arm to the scanner.

"No, I did not!" Sherlock shouted. "He's not abandoned, he's free and independent. He can help himself. He made his own choice. It was the wrong one, but I will catch up with him again, unlike you, Doctor, who has chosen to abandon and stay away from people you once called your friends."

"It wasn't always my choice." The Doctor said, looking down as the scan began. "Sometimes it got harder and harder to catch up with them. So he's not joined at the hip with you?" The Doctor asked, looking up. "What is he, then? Your lover, friend, or partner?"

"Partner, maybe, friend, perhaps, lover? I'll get back to you on that." Sherlock said as the Doctor scoffed. "I met him just a month ago. He needed a flat, I had one that was too expensive for me to rent alone, and so we moved in together. He helped me out on a case, saved my life by shooting a cabbie coaxing me to poison myself-"

"John shot a cabbie coaxing you to poison yourself?" The Doctor asked, shocked.

"It was murder by competitive suicide, quite ingenious, really." Sherlock said. "The cabbie was smart enough to figure out your woes and weaknesses, scars deep enough to kill yourself over. He then challenged you at gunpoint to choose one of two pills, one of which was poison and the other wasn't, as he took the other pill. Whoever survived won. He murdered three others this way."

"Ingenious, I suppose, in a foul, murderous way." The Doctor frowned. "Did you really want to take the pill?"

"In the most desperate way to find out if I was right and he was wrong." Sherlock said.

"Hopeless." The Doctor shook his head, turning back to check on the progress of the scan. "So John saved and helped you in a way I don't approve of, by the way, no guns with me here. And he's been helping you ever since?"

Sherlock nodded. "We've worked on several cases together since, nothing like this, though. We're sort of desperate for more, Scotland Yard has given us very little and when my brother Mycroft told us-"

"Mycroft? Mycroft Holmes?" The Doctor gasped, staring at Sherlock. "You're his brother?"

"You've heard of him?" Sherlock asked, stunned.

"He is the British Government, of course I've heard of him." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "And I've got the British Government's brother in my TARDIS! Mycroft is after me, isn't he?" The Doctor asked. When Sherlock nodded, he groaned. "What a lousy, rotten day this has been! This was a mistake, getting messed up with you."

"It certainly hasn't been easy for me either." Sherlock said, pausing long enough to take in and inspect the TARDIS. "You've changed it completely. The war must have heavily damaged it. What sort of a war was it?"

"None of your business." The Doctor said and finally the scan was complete. The Doctor checked and groaned. "The signal isn't strong enough. This piece is dead, disconnected from the Nestene Consciousness when I deactivated it at Rose's flat, saving yours and John's miserable little lives. We need to find some more live pieces of plastic that the Nestene controls to track it down.

"Can you track those Autons down?" Sherlock asked.

"Working on it." The Doctor said, setting up a scan, and then grinned. "Couple of Autons right near here, hang on tight!" He cried, flipping a switch and the TARDIS rattled into life, Sherlock holding on as they materialized in an alleyway behind a fancy pizzeria. Sherlock and the Doctor rushed out of the TARDIS to capture a piece of living Autons.

"John's an Auton!" Sherlock shouted a few minutes later, trying to keep Auton John's plastic arm from strangling him while the Doctor had gotten hold of Mickey's head as the two of them entered the TARDIS. "Why is he made of plastic? He shouldn't be made of plastic!"

He was furious with the Doctor, with himself for leaving John behind, and with John for getting himself into this predicament. Sherlock had recognized right away that this John wasn't real, especially when he stretched out of shape to wrap himself around Sherlock. Sherlock and the Doctor had managed to dismember the Auton John and Mickey and with Rose in tow, had fled the pizzeria. Rose was still outside, though, panicking.

"Rose! Get in here!" Sherlock opened the TARDIS door and shouted at her.

"All right, all right, I'm coming," Rose said, fleeing into the TARDIS and then gasping as she finally glimpsed the full depth and wonder of its interior.

"Close the door!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, while Rose remained stunned. "Yeah, sorry about that, it happens sometimes. Comes with the turf!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, still furious with him and John for getting involved. The Time Lord plopped Mickey's head down on the console next to the scanner. He was slightly worried as well about what was happening here, if the Autons and the Nestene Consciousness were already claiming lives, and John was caught in the crossfire, but he didn't want to show his concern when that might worry everybody.

"Where is John? The real, live, breathing, human John? Is he still alive?" Sherlock asked, plopping John's arm down on the console next to the head as Rose started crying, thinking about Mickey and John dying.

"I don't know. Maybe." The Doctor said. "They might need the real, living people to maintain the copies, but once the copies are pointless-"

"Did we just sign their death warrants?" Sherlock asked.

"They're melting!" Rose pointed out. Sherlock and the Doctor panicked then, the Doctor trying to track down the signal as Sherlock asked if there was anything he could do to help pilot the TARDIS or preserve the heads.

"No!" The Doctor shouted as they materialized on the bank of the Thames. The Doctor complained at how close they had gotten.

"We traveled." Rose said, still marveling over the TARDIS.

"What are we looking for?" Sherlock asked, getting out and coming up to the Doctor. "Where might the Nestene be hiding? What sort of marks or clues, there must be something that can lead us to them!" And to John before he died.

"The signal is the only thing. It needs a transmitter to boost the signal. A great big whopping transmitter right in the middle of London!" The Doctor shouted.

"Got it." Sherlock said, and started running off. It took a bit for the Doctor and Rose to catch up with his thoughts and then with him, heading across Westminster Bridge towards the London Eye.

"Are you sure we're heading the right way?" Rose asked. "What about the footbridge?"

"Underground complex for the waterworks along the Thames!" Sherlock shouted. "Perfect hiding place for the Nestene Consciousness and the Autons, runs right underneath the London Eye so they can connect their transmitter there. Westminster Bridge is closest to the nearest access point, the footbridge is too far."

"Fantastic!" The Doctor shouted, surprised by Sherlock's intelligence.

"I know." Sherlock said as they raced down the steps to the riverbank, opened up a waterworks shaft, and entered the complex. They still had to save John and Mickey, of course.


	4. Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of 'Rose' and the beginning of a new adventure for Sherlock and John.

"Is there any way of destroying it?" Sherlock asked as he, the Doctor, and Rose spied the Nestene Consciousness.

"I've got some anti-plastic, but I'm not going to use it until I've given them a second chance." The Doctor said.

"Typical for you. I wouldn't even try." Sherlock muttered, but then he spotted John and Mickey down below, surrounded by Autons. He and Rose rushed down to them, while the Doctor continued on to confront the Nestene Consciousness alone.

"What happened, Sherlock? What the hell is going on here?" John shook his head, still a little dazed after having woken up a few minutes ago in a strange, dark place surrounded by plastic figures and a bubbling, roaring liquid vat of fire below. Not to mention feeling annoyed by the creeped-out, babbling, blubbering Mickey sitting next to him that Rose was currently trying to comfort.

"It's all right, John, you're safe." Sherlock said, kissing him on the forehead, stunning the others. "We'll get you out of here."

"I've died, haven't I?" John asked, confused by the hellish place and Sherlock's heavenly kiss. He wanted some more of that.

"No, John, you haven't and you won't." Sherlock insisted. "Come on, let's go see what type of trouble the Doctor has managed to get himself into."

He stood up, pulling John along with him, and pushed past the Autons, ignoring them while John managed to follow after him. The Doctor called out to the Nestene Consciousness using the Shadow Proclamation, which Sherlock briefly noted and considered asking the Doctor about later, if there was such a time since he might have need of invoking such a power if he traveled with the Time Lord. Sherlock and John joined the Doctor on the lower level platform, overlooking the Nestene Consciousness immediately below them, while Mickey and Rose remained on the level above, watching them.

John grimaced at the sight of the Nestene Consciousness, slightly sickened by its ghoulish appearance, while Sherlock was fascinated by his first sight of a truly alien intelligence beyond his comprehension. The Doctor might be an alien, but he was almost human in his characteristics and manners and could be comprehensible. Sherlock certainly understood him in part from what little he had read of UNIT's and Torchwood's profiles on him, and had deduced several more details about him upon meeting, such as his recent wartime experience.

But this thing was gorgeous and deadly at the same time, hardly human at all in its behavior and characteristics. He could not understand it, and he wanted to know more about these alien creatures. Yet the Doctor casually and even crudely spoke to the Nestene Consciousness, provoking and verbally attacking it with jokes and the truth of the situation. Sherlock was almost certain the Nestene Consciousness would not take these threats well. Better get the anti-plastic ready, Doctor, Sherlock thought to himself.

John shifted away from the Doctor, painting a target on his back, and glanced around, aware of the Autons circling round them. "Should we really be doing this right now? Shouldn't we be getting out of here?"

"I'm afraid it's too late, John. Things have already reached the breaking point. There's no turning back now." Sherlock whispered, taking note of where the Autons were positioned and preparing himself to fight them. "Use it now, Doctor." Sherlock urged.

"No." The Doctor briefly told him, knowing what Sherlock meant.

He admired and hated the Doctor at this point for putting them into this precarious position, but he did not blame the Time Lord so much when this was his usual behavior and means of attack—verbally confronting an opponent without an escape route until something came to him. Hopefully something would come to the Doctor about now, like the anti-plastic he had on hand. But the Autons seized the Doctor while he was distracted. Sherlock and John attempted to fight them off until their hands lowered, revealing ray guns. Sherlock and John surrendered at this point, while things had escalated between the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness.

Both his anti-plastic vial and TARDIS had been discovered. Sherlock mentally cursed the Doctor for waiting too long to play his trump. The Doctor's voice choked up as he pleaded with the Nestene Consciousness, telling it that he was not to blame for what happened in the war. What was this war that had so plagued and affected the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness, Sherlock mused, even face-to-face with an Auton gun. It had to be something of a cosmic nature if it affected multiple planets with the Doctor caught up in the middle of it all.

John simply wondered if he was about to die, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed that it would be quick and pain-free. Sherlock should not be here with him, though. He wished that Sherlock could be spared. "Invasion of the plastic people. Death by plastic ray gun." John muttered, giggling to himself when there was nothing left for him to do.

"John, please shut up." Sherlock tried to think of a way out of this mess, but nothing came to him, just the thought of that anti-plastic—clutched in the hand of one of the Autons close to the edge of the platform above the vat. If only that thing would fall right in the middle of the Nestene Consciousness. That would surely destroy it. But he was not in the position to bump into the Auton, at least not yet.

At the moment…"Sir!" Anthea called out, running to Mycroft at MI6 headquarters. "There are multiple attacks taking place in the middle of London and the surrounding area, except they seem to involve plastic mannequins."

"Plastic mannequins? Are you sure?" Mycroft asked before checking out the CCTV display, which caused his ashen face to pale even more than usual at the sight of the massacre. "Plastic mannequins. It's just like in one of those UNIT documents on the Doctor…the Automatons, or Autons I believe they were called."

"They're coming this way." Anthea said, her ear pressed up to her mobile. "That's just a few blocks away from us."

"Get UNIT on the phone!" Mycroft ordered. "They must have some kind of attack plan in place for such an invasion, from the 70s or 80s, whenever. Something to destroy these bloody plastic mannequins!"

"What about Torchwood?" Anthea asked. "The attacks are spreading too far and too fast for UNIT alone to handle. We need more experienced, trained containment forces."

"They aren't ready to deal with this type of threat yet, are they?" Mycroft asked. Anthea shrugged and Mycroft continued, "Well, get in touch with them in any case, maybe they've got something on hand to ward them off. Tell Torchwood to patrol densely populated areas close to wherever these mannequins might be displayed and keep a low profile. Increase our security patrol here."

"Yes, sir," Anthea said, running off again to send out his orders.

"Sherlock, where are you?" Mycroft was worried that his brother might somehow be involved in this mess when he had sent out Sherlock to find out more about the Doctor sighting.

He never should have given Sherlock all of that information. It had just stoked his brother's brain and ego too much and excited him to the point of diving off into some strange, new adventure. But part of the reason why Mycroft had gotten Sherlock involved in the first place was because Sherlock was the only person he knew of who could handle and maybe even survive such dangerous encounters with the Doctor. He just hoped his brother had the doctor, Dr. John Watson to be precise, to keep him company and keep him sane.

Meanwhile, police and emergency services were flooded with calls from Queen Arcade and the surrounding area, with SWAT teams and London's finest, including New Scotland Yard, being sent there. Lestrade was among the first at the scene. "Cor blimey, what is going on here?" He muttered to himself, shaking his head at the sight of plastic mannequins lumbering about, firing at people. It was like a bloody warzone here. He hadn't believed the news about this plastic-faced mob, but now that he saw them in action, he knew that nothing would be normal again. Sherlock would probably get a kick out of it, though.

"What should we do here?" Sally Donovan asked as she and the rest of the force cowered behind their patrol cars.

"All right, we need to get civilians out of the area and under cover." Lestrade ordered Sally and any officer within hearing distance. "Guns are authorized. Take out any of these plastic-faced, armed assailants when possible, but make sure to aim and fire if it's clear. The army should be coming soon, hopefully, to deal with this mess. We'll be holding them off until help arrives." With that, Lestrade emerged and started firing at the mannequins, followed by Donovan and the rest of the force. The mannequins were distracted enough by the armed response that they started turning away from helpless victims to attacking the police.

Other people across London, like Mrs. Hudson and Molly Hooper, remained glued to their TV sets and news reports, afraid to come out of hiding and face the terror on the streets. But just outside of London's metropolitan area, in a palatial manor on a country estate, two figures gleefully watched the action on the screen.

"What did I tell you?" The Master laughed. "Plastic makes it possible. Plastic is the future of humanity. The Autons will win!"

"Plastic is dull, boring, and clichéd, much like your wife Lucy." Moriarty muttered. "I still say we should have stuck with the Slitheen. They're already in place, you know, awaiting our final orders, ready to strike."

"Oh, you just like the way they fart." The Master muttered, slumping back down in his seat, causing Moriarty to laugh.

"I can't help it. It's so amusing that out of all the bodily functions available to them from such a wide arrange of features, the only way they can compress and expel so much of that pressure is to fart." Moriarty laughed again before he sighed. "Imagine such great hunters farting all of the time! Plus, I liked their plan." He grew more serious. "It seems to be an elaborate ruse, yet it's more fun that way. And I can't help thinking of that nice, tidy sum of intergalactic money we were going to make from the sale of chunks of this burned out earth. Cinders and ash."

"We did get a finder's fee for bringing the Nestene Consciousness here to this planet, full of rich toxins and dioxides." The Master remarked. "That's worth something, is it not?"

"If you say so." Moriarty said in a sing-song voice, turning back to the screen. "I'm still waiting for the results."

Meanwhile, the Doctor called out to Rose and Mickey to leave, the invasion was about to start, but Rose took the time to answer a phone call—bugger it all, Sherlock thought to himself. Pointless, idiotic conversation when they were all about to die. Rose and Mickey fumbled with the TARDIS door when the stairs fell, but then Rose turned and faced the Doctor as a disembodied voice, possibly from the Consciousness called out, 'Time Lord', causing both Sherlock and John to shiver. John opened his eyes and watched alongside Sherlock as Rose and the Doctor stared at each other, riveted, and suddenly Rose raced away from the TARDIS, towards some chains hanging nearby on the upper level. Somehow, she had gotten hold of an axe to cut them loose.

"Oh, clever girl." Sherlock said to himself as she made a somewhat grandiose speech, grabbed the chain, and swung across like a female Tarzan.

She plowed into a long line of Autons, knocking them down and helping to free the Doctor, who shook off his captors. This distracted the Autons near Sherlock and John enough that Sherlock managed to knock into the Auton holding the anti-plastic vial, causing both to fall into the Nestene Consciousness. But Sherlock nearly fell in as well, overbalanced on the edge of the platform.

And as he was about to be swallowed up in the liquid fire of the alien intelligence screaming in agony, Sherlock comprehended it at last, for he felt the same way facing death and contemplating all that he had failed to achieve and do. No, there was so much more that could be done and seen, he had so much left to do! But John somehow managed to grab hold of the consulting detective, possibly by his coat, and pull him back from the edge, causing both of them to fall down backwards on the platform.

"That's enough of that, now." John managed to say as they both got up. "Can't lose you, too, can I?"

"No. Thank you, John." Sherlock said, gasping for breath and relieved to have his blogger back with him as Rose swung back and was caught by the Doctor with a smile. Everything started exploding around them then and they raced up to the TARDIS, where Mickey was waiting for them. Rose glanced back once, still smiling as she entered the TARDIS.

"Oh my god." Both John and Mickey said at that point, seeing the interior of the TARDIS for the first time (technically second time for John, although the video of the old TARDIS interior didn't really count) as it dematerialized from the exploding base.

All across London, and as far as the Nestene Consciousness signal had spread, the plastic mannequins started malfunctioning, and then ceased to function altogether, turning back into regular plastic figures. Mycroft checked the CCTV feed twice to make sure the cameras had not malfunctioned and then froze with the plastic malfeasance, but once he was certain everything was correct and seemingly back to normal, he told Anthea to call UNIT and Torchwood to rescind his orders. They weren't needed anymore, probably thanks to the Doctor and maybe his little brother Sherlock. Mother would be inordinately proud of him if she knew, Mycroft was certain with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.

Lestrade ordered his forces to cease firing when he and the others saw the plastic-faced assailants falling apart, truly revealing them to be made of nothing more than plastic, not human. "What the devil just happened here?" He asked, aghast. Most people were wondering the same question, although they still had to deal with the fallout of the attack, namely the dead and wounded. Molly Hooper was certain the morgue at St. Barts would be full when she got there tomorrow morning, and she shivered at the thought of all those helpless victims dying on London's streets. Who or what could have done such a thing?

At the palatial manor, Moriarty laughed even harder as the Master stared at the screen, horrified. "No, no, no, no! The Autons were supposed to win." The Master shouted. "It was all set up so perfectly. Everything should have gone right, for once in my lifetimes!"

"You can't make those Autons do anything right!" Moriarty cried. "You tried once before with them, I know that, back in the 70s. And they even tried to invade by themselves sometime before that, but they failed! They fail every single time they try to take control! You can't win when you're made of plastic!"

"You're wrong! They never failed, they were always defeated by the Doctor." The Master gasped as Moriarty froze, staring up at him in shock and awe. "He's here." The Master said. "The Doctor, he's here, he's come at last!"

"After all this time?" Moriarty said. "He's been gone for so long without any sign of him. Please tell me it's not a false alarm like last time!"

"It's the Doctor, I'm telling you! He's here, he's returned, and we shall crush him and Sherlock Holmes!" The Master and Moriarty laughed at that.

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor rounded on Sherlock. "You did that on purpose, knocked the Auton and the anti-plastic into the vat."

"I did what I had to do." Sherlock admitted. "You weren't able to do that when the Autons had you. They were winning, you were losing, and if someone didn't do something, like me and Rose, then none of us would be standing here alive and the earth would practically be dead, taken over by plastic."

John, Rose, and Mickey winced at this painful reminder as they glanced around the TARDIS, still shocked and surprised by it all, yet taking it in. Mickey blubbered a little bit, though, certain that they were going to be destroyed and not quite aware that the TARDIS was moving away from the hellish den. He was still thinking that this was some sort of nightmare. John and Rose remained cool, calm, and collected. They were certain that they were safe enough here, especially with Sherlock and the Doctor present to take control of things.

"Is that all you can think about? Winning and losing? It's not all a game, you know, Sherlock." The Doctor said. John nodded to himself, agreeing with that sentiment, though Sherlock sometimes could not see that.

"I know, but sometimes the game is the only important thing that matters." Sherlock said. "Life and death can be a game sometimes and you were jeopardizing all of our lives on a gamble by offering the Autons a second chance. You knew the odds weren't even in your favor by bringing the anti-plastic with you. You were going to destroy them if you failed. I just did it for you."

"I know!" The Doctor shouted, staring at Sherlock as John whipped his head around, surprised by this turn of events. John hadn't quite understood everything that was going on back at the complex, having missed a whole bunch, but he understood that the Nestene and Autons had somehow been destroyed—yet he hadn't known it was by Sherlock's hands.

"I tried to give them a second chance." The Doctor muttered, still thinking of his failure as he turned away to the console. "People deserve a second chance. It's more than I got or deserved."

"Well sometimes, they don't take their second chances." Sherlock said. "You either have to force it on them or give up. I gave up for you so that you didn't have to." John frowned, slightly worried about his friend.

The Doctor paused and glanced askance at Sherlock. "Thanks, I think, but it shouldn't have been necessary."

"You're welcome. And you can really thank me by taking John and me with you on your travels." Sherlock added with a smile, turning away from the Doctor, who looked like he was going to have an apoplectic attack. John's eyes widened, not certain how he felt about that idea.

"What about that Nestene Consciousness?" John asked, looking up and interrupting before the Doctor could get too enraged. "How did it get down there? Who installed it in that vat? How did it get to this planet?"

"Well done, John, excellent questions. Doctor, do you have an answer for those?" Sherlock queried.

"I don't know." The Doctor said, frowning. "I don't know and now we'll never find out, thanks to you."

"Why didn't you notice Mickey and John were Autons?" Sherlock rounded on Rose now.

"What?" John's head popped up. "I was what?"

"I don't know! I hadn't met John before, I didn't notice-" Rose started to say.

"That even your own boyfriend was plastic?" Sherlock finished for her, smiling as she blushed and the Doctor laughed.

"You couldn't tell me from a fake replica of me?" Mickey gasped.

"I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind that you could be." Rose said.

"You still should have known. Just how well do you know him?" Sherlock asked Rose.

"Not very well at all." She admitted.

"That's the truth, isn't it?" Mickey said.

"You knew I was plastic, right?" John asked Sherlock.

"Of course I knew, straightaway." Sherlock insisted. "The stretching didn't help."

"Thanks for that." John said, not certain how to take it as they materialized on the edge of the Powell Estate.

Mickey stumbled out of the TARDIS, shocked by the sudden movement and finding himself in a different place, not the blown-up complex, with Rose and the Doctor following after him, though the Doctor paused in the doorway. Sherlock stopped John from moving any farther as they stood by the console. "We need to stay in the TARDIS in order to travel with the Doctor and the only way we can do that is not to leave the TARDIS." Sherlock told John. "Or else the Doctor will force us out."

"Are you sure this is such a good idea, traveling with the Doctor?" John asked.

"Do you want to leave and give up on traveling with the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, uncertain about John's response. He certainly wanted to continue, but he didn't know how he would feel, not having John with him. It didn't seem right, somehow, if he went on alone with the Doctor and left John behind. He was torn between John and the Doctor at this point.

John hesitated, feeling pressured to stay, even though he knew how dangerous it was, because he and Sherlock sort of had enjoyed it and maybe the Doctor would be all right to travel with, once they got to know him some more. Plus, there was so much out there that he hadn't experienced, and he wanted to know more as well. "All right, we'll stay." John murmured and nodded.

"Excellent." Sherlock smiled, pleased, and even John smiled as well.

The Doctor, at this point, made an appeal to Rose to travel with him, but Sherlock and John were shocked at this point to hear Rose reject his offer. "I thought she liked him." John said. "He liked her, after all, he asked her."

"I did, too." Sherlock frowned to himself, wondering about that. There had to be something more there with Rose and the Doctor. She might be concerned about Mickey and her mum, but there had to be some reason why she was attracted to the Doctor in the first place to consider being with him. But what made her not want to go, besides her concerns and the danger?

At that point, the Doctor's emotional responses had shut down. He had closed the TARDIS doors, probably feeling heartbroken, dejected, and rejected, and walked back up to the console and started to dematerialize his ship, not even looking up at Sherlock and John. The two men remained silent for a moment, certain that the Doctor might lash out at them once they were gone, calling them irritating, pointless, and stupid when he felt so bad, and afraid that he might kick them out as soon as possible.

"Time travel." Sherlock suddenly said, realizing what was missing here.

"What was that?" The Doctor said, looking up at Sherlock in shock as if he didn't know the other man had existed and then withheld anger that he did.

"You didn't tell Rose about the time travel." Sherlock said. "You mentioned how it can go anywhere in space, but you forgot to mention time travel. I believe she might like that particular feature of the TARDIS most of all." John glanced between the Doctor and Sherlock, wondering what was going on here and what the detective had figured out.

"Are you serious?" The Doctor asked. "So if I went back there and told her-"

"She might come." Sherlock said. "She might."

"All right, I'll give it a go." The Doctor sighed, not certain if it would work, but he tried to act more cheerful as he rematerialized the TARDIS back where Rose and Mickey were, stuck his head out, and spoke up. Rose smiled, nodded at him, kissed Mickey good-bye and then raced for the TARDIS.

The Doctor stuck his head back in, overwhelmed and turned back to Sherlock with a large, genuine smile and said, "It worked!"

"Told you!" Sherlock laughed and turned to John, hugging him tightly, pleased with the way things had turned out as Rose entered the TARDIS and it dematerialized, leaving Mickey and the Powell Estate far behind them. Good riddance, Sherlock thought to himself, glad to be gone. Earth and the 21st century were gone, and they were heading out into the unknown. Sherlock couldn't wait to get there.

John felt his heart pounding. The adventure was just beginning, and they were going who knows where and who knows when with a mad, heartbroken, torn and shredded Time Lord at the controls. He felt like anything could happen, anything might, and that scared and thrilled him more than anything with Sherlock by his side. Anything could happen to them. They might become as broken and scarred as this mad, lost Time Lord, or they might lead the grandest, happiest adventure of theirs and any lifetimes. It was all just beginning for them.


	5. A Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mickey finds something left in his car, Sherlock and John step out into another time and place.

It took him a while, but Mickey finally managed to locate his car in front of a pizzeria he and Rose frequented, which plastic Mickey must have taken her to last night, and luckily, it had not been broken into. He managed to get in and looked around to see if everything was all right, at which point he spotted the laptop that Dr. John Watson must have left behind when he was taken by the plastic Autons.

Mickey frowned to himself, not knowing what to do with the stupid laptop except to check it out so that he could figure out where to return it to with the doctor gone with the Doctor. He drove his car home, brought the laptop inside his flat, and set to work. It was password-protected with pretty good software, Mickey was surprised the doctor had taken such a precaution, but he had learned enough about coding and hacking already to break into the laptop, at which point he discovered that it was not the doctor's laptop, but Sherlock Holmes's.

He found dozens of case files on murder investigations, which caused Mickey's eyes to bug out at the gross, yet intricate details that Sherlock recorded on all of these investigations with his deductions laid out in full detail. And on top of that, there were files upon files from Torchwood and UNIT all about the alien Doctor, which caused Mickey to cover up his mouth in shock as he realized the sort of trouble that Rose, Dr. Watson, and Sherlock Holmes had gotten into. He read through all of these files, and then checked out everything he could on Sherlock Holmes's laptop, including emails, website, lab reports, police reports and special hacker and coder software, the last really causing Mickey to smile as he felt like he could break into any computer in the world using this stuff. He wanted to find out everything he possibly could about Sherlock Holmes and the Doctor at this point.

Suddenly, Mickey heard a pounding on his front door, which he answered to find Rose Tyler's mum Jackie right outside. "Where is she? Where is my daughter? What's happened to her?"

"She's not here, she's gone, but I've got something to show you. You better come inside." Mickey said.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Jackie asked, following Mickey inside and stopping at the sight of the laptop. "What is this? Where did it come from? That's not yours!"

"It belongs to this investigator, Sherlock Holmes. His partner Dr. John Watson was holding on to it, but he left it behind when the two of them left with Rose and the Doctor last night." Mickey started to explain.

"What? Investigators? Like criminal investigators? And they left with my daughter and—what doctor?" Jackie frowned as she said, "I remember there were a pair of investigators who wanted to talk with Rose yesterday morning, that was the last I saw of her. There was a short, older man with blond hair and a limp and a tall, agile, sleek young man with dark hair-"

"Yeah, that was them! Sherlock and John!" Mickey turned on the laptop and showed her everything he could about Sherlock, John, and the alien Doctor.

Jackie gaped at all of this information and shook her head, "No, I don't-I don't believe you!" She left Mickey's apartment and called the police about her daughter's disappearance, but when they asked about any information she might have on her daughter's whereabouts and last known appearance, she did add the fact that Rose had last been seen with two blokes who might be Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. At which point, Lestrade was called in to question Jackie and Mickey as to the two men's involvement with Rose, a serious allegation in the girl's disappearance, and Mycroft was apprised of this latest development.

Mycroft frowned to himself as he read and listened to the testimonials of Mickey and Jackie recorded by the police, especially Mickey babbling on about the alien Doctor. "He knows too much information about the Doctor to have only met him once." Mycroft remarked to Anthea. "I fear my brother may have been too careless in mislaying his laptop and all of our top secret files on the Doctor. I thought he would have done better than that."

"Shall we locate and retrieve the laptop?" Anthea asked.

"Yes. And be sure to bring in Mickey Smith as well for questioning and debriefing. We can't have him spilling too many beans now, can we?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course, sir." Anthea sent off Mycroft's orders. Mickey Smith's flat was broken into late at night, Sherlock's laptop was retrieved, all of Mickey's computer equipment was wiped clean to destroy any duplication of Sherlock's files and Mickey himself was kidnapped and brought to MI6 headquarters.

"What's going on here?" Mickey asked, scared and nervous, but trying to hide it as Mycroft entered the room. Mickey recognized him. "You're Sherlock's brother, aren't you? Mycroft or what not? He's got your photo on his computer and with what he's written-"

"I could have you locked away for the rest of your life for stealing and spilling government secrets without a chance for appeal, so let's not make this any worse than it has to be, shall we?" Mycroft asked Mickey, smiling as he sat down before him.

"All right then." Mickey managed to say. "What's it going to take for you to free me?"

"A promise to be good, not to disclose anything of what you have learned, to rescind all of your testimony regarding Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, and the Doctor. And, of course, to keep a watchful eye out for my brother and both doctors, whenever they should return." Mycroft said.

"Do you want me to spy for you?" Mickey asked. "I could do that, you know. I could work for you."

"Don't push your luck." Mycroft said, studying the young man. "But yes, should the need arise, I want you on standby. Just in case. My assistant will provide you with further details and information."

"Thank you." Mickey Smith sagged in his chair. So Mickey confessed to Lestrade that he had lied about Sherlock and John being involved, and made up the story about the alien Doctor.

However, Jackie Tyler was another matter entirely. She would not rescind her testimony concerning Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, even though she didn't believe in the alien Doctor. Anthea attempted to visit Ms. Tyler and discuss the matter with her, even offering some compensation to help her, but Ms. Tyler outright refused. "I don't want compensation, I want my daughter! Where is she? Do you or any of your bosses know where she is?" Jackie was smart enough to figure out that something iffy was going on here, even if she couldn't figure out what sort of person Anthea was or who she worked for.

"No, Ms. Tyler, we don't know where she is." Anthea said, eying Rose's mother. "Neither can we get her back for you if you do not help us. We want your full cooperation on this matter."

"I'm not going to lie." Jackie insisted. "I'm going to insist, until my dying day, that Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr. John Watson were there in my flat with Rose on the day she vanished. Something fishy is definitely going on here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Even if I have to tear apart the whole bloody United Kingdom!"

"The mother is not going to work with us." Anthea told Mycroft later. "She will take this public and to court if she has to. She will expose everything about Sherlock and his friend."

"Can we afford to lose Sherlock?" Mycroft sighed to himself.

"Are you certain that you want to give up on him?" Anthea asked.

"We may not have any choice if Sherlock doesn't come back with Rose Tyler alive and well soon." Mycroft remarked. "And given that they're traveling with the Doctor, that isn't exactly a given."

"I'll make the arrangements soon." Anthea told him. "His activities will be entirely divorced from your own. It will be like you never had a brother."

"It worked last time." Mycroft muttered to himself. "What will I tell mum and dad, though?"

"I'm sure they will understand." Anthea lowered her head as she walked away from her boss.

"Hmm, Mycroft is panicking." Moriarty remarked, examining his reports. "He's effectively cut himself off from Sherlock, thanks to that disappearing girl trick." Moriarty snorted. "I tell you, Harold, that Doctor is an effective agent of chaos. Too bad he's not on our side, isn't it?"

"I've told you time and time again, don't call me Harold." The Master growled to himself, looking up at Moriarty. "It's the most useless, annoying, pointless name in the universe."

"Well, it is your name, Harold, until we make ourselves known." Moriarty glanced at the Master. "I'm sorry, do you still have that pounding headache?" Moriarty grinned and laughed, "Pound, pound, pounding away inside your brain."

"Enough!" The Master shouted, standing up and striding over to Moriarty. "Don't make me choke you to death. Or make you choke yourself."

"You can't work your mojo on me, Master." Moriarty grinned. "I'm immune. I'm not like everybody else. Certainly not like your wife Lucy."

"Pointless wife." The Master added, staring down at Moriarty.

"She's not pointless, not for a while yet." Moriarty glanced up at him. "We need her for now to establish you as a respectable politician and businessman before we make our move. If all else fails, she is key to our success in taking over everything."

"I like the way you think." The Master remarked.

"I learned from the best." Moriarty grinned, causing the Master to laugh.

* * *

It was painfully obvious to Sherlock as they watched the Doctor and Rose play with the TARDIS that the Doctor was just showing off his time travel capabilities for Rose, once he had learned that was key to engaging and retaining her interest in traveling with him. Even though it was Sherlock who had deduced this and helped the Doctor recapture Rose's heart, he found it boring in the extreme for them to be messing around like this and he still couldn't shake off the feeling that Rose had an ulterior motive in traveling with the Doctor when it came to the time travel aspect.

Of course, he and John were no better when they wanted to travel with the alien Doctor for the thrill of it all and to discover new, exciting worlds, but that sense of adventure and intellectual exploration was 'fun', 'camp', and pure in a sense that wasn't boring or 'melodramatic' or deceitful. He and John weren't deceiving the Doctor in a sense, but Rose was, and Sherlock wanted to get to the bottom of it before she ruined everything and betrayed him. However, he couldn't ask Rose outright for she would belay him and turn the Doctor against him and John so that she wouldn't have to answer for her crime.

The Doctor was blind enough in his attraction to Rose that he couldn't see what was the matter with her and he certainly didn't have such affection for Sherlock and John. He would kick them out of the TARDIS before he ever kicked Rose out, even at this early stage of their acquaintance. Sherlock knew that he and John would have to stay on the Doctor's good side for as long as they possibly could, and so he would have to keep his eye on Rose and figure out her motivation before he presented rock-solid evidence to the Doctor that she was up to something. Even then, he would have to persuade the Doctor to believe it and hope that the Time Lord was smart enough to realize the truth. Good luck with that.

"Boys and their toys, even with different species it remains the same." Sherlock remarked.

"Don't you have a few toys that you like?" John asked.

"I am not immune to that either." Sherlock sighed, almost disappointed with himself for such foolishness, but then he smirked when John laughed. Let the man have his humor, Sherlock was willing to indulge John there.

But as the Doctor and Rose babbled about the New Roman Empire, Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Forwards, backwards in time, it doesn't matter, just pick a time and place!" Sherlock shouted at them, startling the others and causing the Doctor to frown at him. He didn't care where or when they wound up, just as long as they got out of the TARDIS in a different time and place from where they had been. He wanted to explore and see the universe, dammit! He wasn't going to wait around here in the TARDIS for them to settle down and stop playing.

"Sherlock, behave." John hissed, feeling embarrassed that Sherlock was already acting out and they hadn't even gone anyplace or anywhen yet. They had to be nice to their bunkmates on here, especially the driver. Who knew when or where they would be getting off this thing? And hopefully they wouldn't be marooned far away from home in a different time, if the Doctor felt so inclined.

"All right, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Miss Rose Tyler, and Dr. John Watson," The Doctor said, enunciating their names with disdain, affection, and curiosity in that order, according to his feelings for them. "You want to go someplace, somewhen new and different? I've got one just for you."

Both Sherlock and John shivered, one in anticipation and the other in fear, as the Doctor's TARDIS was set in motion and then they stopped. The Doctor didn't answer Rose's or Sherlock's questions, and so they both left the TARDIS as quickly as possible. John stood there for a moment longer, though, just staring at the TARDIS door and trying to catch his breath in preparation for stepping out onto an alien world in a different time. He wanted this moment to be etched onto his mind forever.

"Coming, John? Dr. Watson? What should I call you?" The Doctor asked, glancing over at Sherlock's friend that he had not gotten to know very well, aside from what Sherlock had said or implied about him.

Of course, for part of that time, John hadn't been around and then had been made of plastic, but nonetheless, the Doctor felt like he should make some kind of effort to get to know John, especially when Sherlock seemed to care about him and from what little he could tell, Sherlock hardly cared about anyone else. So there had to be something special about John in Sherlock's mind, even if it was for ordinary reasons and ways. John might be key to understanding or reining in Sherlock from time to time and the Doctor wanted to have him handy and on his side, just in case. Plus there was something about John that seemed innocent and lost all at the same time, something sort of precious that couldn't be easily replaced or found in this universe. The Doctor had lost that quality in himself long ago, yet he cherished it, even though he might have to destroy it.

"John is fine, and I'm definitely coming." John said, nodding, and followed after him as they left the TARDIS.

"Look at the décor, definitely not Earth-based from the 21st century." Sherlock remarked to himself, examining the walls as Rose gazed all around. "It has an earth-like tone and design to them, but the materials are completely different. Flexible and durable, not elastic. Faux marble and wood…"

"Gorgeous place." John said to himself, glancing back at the Doctor and mumbling a quiet 'sorry' on Sherlock's behalf.

"Don't mention it." The Doctor told John, and grinned. "And this isn't even half of it." With that said, he went to an electronic display by the door and started fiddling with it using his special device.

"I want that sonic screwdriver." Sherlock muttered to himself as John's head whipped toward him, recognizing the tone. Batten down the hatches, man the port valve, Sherlock was in pirate mode.

"Fat chance of you getting or using it." The Doctor said, annoyed the man would be so presumptuous, as Sherlock arched an eyebrow.

"Challenge accepted." Sherlock said with an acquisitive gleam in his eyes as John groaned to himself, knowing that Sherlock would not rest until he acquired what he so desired and almost always, he got his way. Half the time, though, John wished Sherlock was so acquisitive towards himself. It might feel nice, after all, to be needed and wanted by the world's great consulting detective.

However, John's thoughts were stilled and even Sherlock became quiet and contemplative as the screen lowered before them, revealing the earth. They were in space, looking down upon their home planet, and it was beautiful. All of the humans' breaths stopped, overwhelmed by the sight, as the Doctor came down and stood beside Rose, talking about death and survival. Sherlock frowned to himself and gripped John's hand, realizing that something was amiss here in the Doctor's behavior and actions, and he was proved right.

Sherlock stiffened in shock, trying to consume his emotions as he inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on John as he saw and felt the earth dying so close to them. It was a cruel trick for the Doctor to play on them. He would have none of this, especially with John around. John didn't deserve such ill treatment or abuse of his sensibility.

John gasped, taking it all in and feeling Sherlock's hand in his as the sun expanded ever closer to them and consuming the earth in fire. John processed the news that it was the end of the world, yet five billion years into the future-it seemed so far away, and yet here they were at this moment, all of Earth's future gone in an instance and they were standing here, facing its death together. It seemed heart-breaking and loving all at the same time, especially with Sherlock by his side, something that they but few others could ever experience.

Rose was stunned as well, but the Doctor seemed amused or at least intrigued by all of their reactions, studying them closely. The Doctor was surprised most of all by how visibly John and Sherlock reacted and were affected in different ways, Sherlock most of all. He had not imagined that Sherlock would be so moved by the earth's death, although the consulting detective hid and bottled up his emotions so well behind a veil of logic and reasoning that it was hard, even for a Time Lord, to read him.

And the Doctor very dearly wanted to get to know and understand the mysterious, inscrutable detective, because he liked a good mystery just as much as Sherlock did. And it would have to take something very strong to shake and affect the detective, like John being made of plastic or most notably earth's death in this moment, so that Sherlock could reveal his thoughts and feelings to the Time Lord. So far, what little the Doctor had gleamed about Sherlock Holmes intrigued him even more. There was a real human being inside him, and perhaps something more.

"What is this?" Sherlock asked, turning to face the Doctor after a moment. "Why have you brought us here? There is a reason you are showing this to us, you want to prove a point or demonstrate that—what? We are incapable of escaping a fixed point in time, an ultimate fate? That death and decay is inevitable and nothing, not even our own planet, will last forever? What is the point then of love, music, or anything at all?" Sherlock whispered. "Surely we can figure that one out on our own." John in particular seemed devastated by Sherlock's last pronouncement. If Sherlock felt this way, that there was no point to anything, then maybe he might never be interested in John at all in a meaningful way.

The Doctor frowned. "That's not the point. And there is always a point in love, music, or anything in life, including death." He exhaled, surprised at even himself. Sherlock and John seemed to bring something out of him. They heard an announcement about Platform 1, where they were, and guests, so the Doctor, in as cheerful a tone as he could manage, quickly said, "Come on, let's get some refreshments and meet the others," before Sherlock or John could say something more. He strode off with Sherlock, John, and Rose following after him as Rose started to ask the Doctor about people.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes to himself. "People wherever you go in time and space," but he didn't question the Doctor again for the moment as he sensed that he had hit a nerve with the Doctor. There was a point for why the Doctor had brought them here and he was going to find out about it.

"Do you believe that there isn't a point?" John asked Sherlock.

"What? Of course there is, John." Sherlock was still thinking about this case with the Doctor, but John was relieved enough to think that Sherlock was referring to existentialism.

Sherlock was intrigued and amused by the Doctor's description of the purpose of Platform 1, typical behavior of the rich to preserve and then destroy things for pleasure, which seemed somewhat pointless in and of itself. Although he paused a moment to consider Rose's equivocation that the Doctor was going to try saving the Earth. It might be like the Doctor to try such a thing and if there was a point for being here that didn't have anything to do with the death of the Earth—but no, the Doctor wouldn't save the Earth this time around, despite the many times that he had in the past. Apparently, this was the true end of the earth, so what was the point of being here?

"I suppose we had a good go of it, didn't we?" John asked the Doctor as Rose talked about being the only humans left.

"You might say that." The Doctor told John before the Host arrived and accosted them. Sherlock tried to think of some excuse for why they were here so that they could stay, but nothing came to him in this strange, alien situation. However, the Doctor had some sort of invite for all of them.

"Not going to get us kicked out of here, are you?" Sherlock asked the Doctor, referring to John and himself, intrigued.

"No, wouldn't dream of it. You two boys are included here in whatever we do." The Doctor said, turning to face Sherlock. "I want you both to see this as well." So that was a point, then? Another step closer to the truth.


	6. Shoot Sherlock!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John, Rose and the Doctor joke around about the Forest of Cheem and Sherlock smells a mystery...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter, really gave me a chance to show off and play around with the story, changing and adding in some plot elements and writing jokes-the puns, oh, the puns. I used to read this web comic, Oracle for Hire, and at one point there were a bunch of tree puns in there...yeah, something along those lines. (And "Shoot Sherlock"? I do occasionally say that in real life. I just had to get that in somewhere.)

Around then, as the Doctor and Rose talked to each other, the Host went up to a podium and introduced all of the guests in attendance as they entered the meeting room with Sherlock's and John's eyes widening in excitement at their first real sight of aliens in all of their variety. As the Forest of Cheem trees entered the room, Sherlock observed the distinguishing characteristics of their visible vegetation in relation to Earth trees and quoted a Latin name, half wondering if there was any relation.

That Tree whipped his head around to stare at Sherlock. "Have you studied old Earth botany?"

"I took a course." Sherlock fibbed and the Tree nodded, moving on as John gaped at Sherlock, impressed in spite of himself. Both fellows almost thought that Sherlock would get a whack in the jaw if he had made some crude error. "Is the Moxx of Balhoon a ceremonial title?" Sherlock asked the Doctor soon after.

"Yes and no." The Doctor told him, not elaborating.

"Financial Family Seven? Adherents of the Repeated Meme?" John repeated to himself, shaking his head when they entered. "Sounds like a gag. Are they a cult or a corporation? Mixture of both?"

"Something like that." The Doctor frowned to himself as more people or aliens kept coming in. "Might be a shell corporation or a giant galactic hedge fund. There are a few of those hedge funds still around, worth bajillions upon bajillions, maybe even a galazinga."

John's eyes boggled. "Like a galaxy worth of wealth? Gordon Bennett."

"I know, a shame." The Doctor shook his head.

"I wish I had so much, or even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction worth of that." Rose murmured to herself.

Sherlock frowned to himself. "So many of the universe's wealthiest gathered on one platform, one station suspended in space? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. I can smell murder and mystery just around the corner."

"Adventure, too?" Rose asked.

"Possibly." Sherlock said.

"Please don't say that. Haven't we had enough murder and mystery for one day?" John frowned to himself. "Is it still the same day since we met the Autons?"

"I believe so from our personal perspectives." Sherlock remarked.

"Can you really smell murder and mystery?" The Doctor asked.

"He thinks he can. He almost has me believing him." John remarked.

"What? Can't you?" Sherlock asked the others. John shook his head, Rose laughed, and the Doctor didn't respond as the Forest of Cheem approached with their gift of peace. The Doctor got a positive response with his gift, causing Sherlock, John, and Rose to smirk.

"What are those? Seeds of affection? Budding growth of love?" Sherlock asked.

"Talk about a breath of re-leaf." John said. "A breath of life to the tree of life?"

"Oh, leaf him alone, John. Tree-t him with respect." Sherlock said.

"Oh, yew're poplar with the alders, aren't yew?" Rose added, getting into the act.

"Oh, cork it." The Doctor muttered, causing the others to bawl and he groaned. "Trunk off!"

"Don't make him pine or oak for sap-athy." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, trim his enthusi-ashm. Never did meet a plant he didn't leaf." Rose added, laughing.

"Woody kindling stop messing about?" The Doctor asked as the Host started to announce 'From the Silver Devastation…'

"I think we're going overboard on this." John said.

"I agree. Can't we branch out a little?" Sherlock asked. "Stop larching around?"

"Shoot Sherlock!" John shouted, almost overpowering the Host's introduction of the Face of Boe. They got a few stares from some of the other guests, although the Face of Boe seemed to laugh and that levied the mood a little bit.

When the Moxx of Balhoon came over and spit on Rose, Sherlock, and John in turn with the Doctor smiling and thanking the Moxx, Sherlock disdainfully wiped off the spittle and muttered, "I have no response to that." The Moxx growled at him and the others before wheeling off.

The Doctor frowned at Sherlock. "I think you've offended him."

"My apologies, I don't know anything about the cultural courtesies or the social niceties for this era." Sherlock said. "I may need a primer."

"Or any era. He never does know them," John said, shaking his head. "Five billion years in the future or past, and if we ever gave him a primer, he might never read it."

"We oak to spruce yew up a little." Rose told Sherlock.

"Shut up." Sherlock muttered as the Adherents of the Repeated Meme came over and offered them a gift in the form of a metal sphere.

He studied them as intently as he could, but could see nothing beyond their black ceremonial robes. That was the thing, it got so much harder for Sherlock to deduce even simple things from people's appearances when completely removed from their cultural contexts. Five billion years in the future with another species was about as far removed as one could get. However, part of Sherlock knew that some things had to be universal, true on other planets as they were on Earth, even if they were so far removed. He just had to figure out what was universal.

"Oh, what's that?" John asked, staring at the sphere in the Doctor's hands. "Is it worth a fortune?"

"Probably some crab-apple junk." The Doctor said and grimaced to himself, tossing it over to Rose. "Yew'll keep it."

"May I have that?" Sherlock asked her. "Since you got the tree cutting?"

"Oak-kay, sure," Rose said, grinning as she handed it over to Sherlock before she sobered up. "It doesn't suit me. I wood rather have this tree cutting, seeing as how it's a living thing from Earth or somewhere. That metal sphere is just too cold and spherical for me."

"I think it rather suits me," Sherlock said, hefting the sphere and examining it. "I would like to take a closer look at it. See if there's something inside. It seems too heavy to be entirely hollow."

"Don't go destroying another gift, Sherlock." John told him.

"I intend to examine it carefully. I won't break it." Sherlock said as Rose laughed.

"Suit yourself." Rose shrugged, and listened and watched in astonishment as they announced the last living human, the Lady Cassandra.

"Skin on a trampoline?" John asked, gaping at the sight as Sherlock grimaced. "Is that how we humans wind up, five billion years in the future? Skin on a trampoline?" John asked again, turning to the Doctor. "Like Sherlock said, if that's the future of human evolution, then what is the point to it all? No thank you to being the last human above the planet Earth. Sucks to be her, I bet."

"Human evolution is much more complex than that, and there is a point to it all." The Doctor said, trying to reassure both John and Sherlock. "Skin on a trampoline is how she wound up, but that's because she chose to remain completely human and didn't change. Not all humans wound up looking like that. Humanity doesn't die out or remain stagnant, it changes and morphs into new life-forms. There are various, hundreds of humanoid forms, formats, descendants and relatives out there. Skin on a trampoline is the least of your troubles and worries."

"Good to hear." John breathed a sigh of relief. Sherlock and John laughed at the artifacts the Lady Cassandra showed the assembled crowd, but then Rose ran out of the room, overcome by it all and the Doctor ran after her. John hesitated, glancing at Sherlock. "Should we follow after them?"

"Do you insist?" Sherlock asked. When John nodded, Sherlock sighed and said, "Come on," hurrying after them.

"Did that Tree just scan him?" John asked Sherlock as they passed by—what was her name? Jabe? She seemed to be interested in the Doctor.

"Probably. What was that?" Sherlock paused, glancing back into the party room and frowning to himself as he clutched the sphere close to him.

He thought he had seen something odd moving in the corner, but he wasn't sure. He shook his head, thinking the alienness of the situation was even getting to him, and went after John and the others. Sherlock, however, did not notice that he was being watched by the Face of Boe, difficult as it was to discern the expression on that giant face trapped in a semi-translucent jar. John, however, had gotten lost and took a wrong turn, so Sherlock had to go after him first. He spotted John in the middle of a hallway, next to an open vent.

"That's funny." John said, frowning as he bent down to look inside.

"Don't stick your nose in there, John." Sherlock said, startling John, who hit his head on the top of the vent. "You don't know what you are going to find."

"Like a scrap of…blue skin?" John asked, indicating something inside the vent.

Sherlock grabbed John and bodily moved him to the side as he bent down to examine the piece of evidence inside the vent. "You're correct. It does look like blue skin, much like that of the workers and the Host who manage this event. And it appears to be ripped and bloody, if this can be called blood. I believe someone is either severely wounded or possibly murdered. John, I need baggies and a tweezers for evidence." He laid the sphere to the side, prepared to perform a full examination.

"I'm not carrying any with me at the moment. I didn't expect that we would be investigating a crime scene when we left home yesterday. Unless that was still today." John frowned to himself. "Time travel is confusing."

"Surely there are some in my laptop—where is my laptop bag, John?" Sherlock asked, looking up at his friend.

"I left it-oh my god." John gasped.

Sherlock stood up and glared at his friend. "You left it where, John? This is vitally important. That information on there, should it fall into the wrong hands, may leak-"

"Mickey's car, Rose's boyfriend, I left the laptop bag in Mickey's car just before we were all turned into Autons." John said.

Sherlock groaned. "Mickey the idiot. Maybe he won't be able to hack into my laptop, but maybe he might or he might know a friend. I need to get my laptop back before then. We need to return home as soon as possible."

"What about the evidence? Someone could be hurt or dead." John said, looking down and gaping at something on the ground. "What is that mechanoid spider thing?"

"What are you talking-" Sherlock turned around just in time to glimpse the mechanical spider scurrying in through the vent. "Something shady is going on." He briefly noted the open sphere before Sherlock bent down to see the mechanoid spider grabbing the piece of blue skin and dragging it off. "Stop, that's evidence!"

The mechanoid spider turned around, a red light aimed directly at Sherlock, and out of instinct, Sherlock pulled himself out of there and pushed John away as a pulse of energy discharged from the spider, scorching the wall opposite the vent opening. Sherlock and John fled, not waiting around to get shot at again.

"It's the sphere!" John gasped, realizing something was missing here. "The spider came from the sphere!"

"Clever!" Sherlock shouted. "Give all of the guests mechanoid spiders programmed to destroy and decimate guests-"

"But it didn't fire at us until you threatened it or tried to stop it." John said.

"Exactly, even better. The mechanoid spiders must have some other purpose, possibly to destroy, decimate, and sabotage operations here on this space station, only turning on guests or other workers who try to stop them." Sherlock said.

"But that means—Earth is about to die, to be swallowed up by solar flares, and we are stuck here on this doomed space station in the middle of it all." John said, slowing down to a stop.

"You're right about that, John." Sherlock frowned to himself, pausing to turn around and face John. "This space station must have some kind of shielding, possibly a cooling system, powerful enough in normal circumstances to stop us from being destroyed by these solar flares. But if that system is jeopardized or destroyed, then there's nothing stopping us from being destroyed. We've walked right into a trap, the perfect murder spree of the richest people in the universe."

John gaped at Sherlock. "What in hell are we going to do here? We're doomed!"

"You're wrong, John. We will find the Doctor and Rose, solve the situation here root out the trouble with the Doctor's help, and get back home as soon as possible!" Sherlock cried, running off again. "I need my laptop back!"

"Not everything is about you!" John shouted back at him, racing after him again. Suddenly, the whole space station shook, startling John and Sherlock and unbalancing them. "What was that?" John shouted, trying to stabilize himself. "Have those spiders gotten at some gravity support system? Are we losing orbit?"

"No, I don't know, I'm not some space engineer, John." Sherlock said, straightening himself out as well. "I think we're safe enough for now, but yes, I think that could be a result of the spiders' messing about with the systems."

John groaned. "This is a hell of a mess."

"What do you want me to say? We'll get out of it, don't worry. Trust me." Sherlock smiled at him as best he could.

"Don't patronize me. I want to believe you, but you're not exactly reassuring me and you're not in any more control of it than I am." John said. "Let's just go find the Doctor and Rose."

Sherlock and John started running off again, but apparently they made a big loop as they heard the Doctor and Rose talking and found them back in the meeting room, only this time all of the guests were agitated and upset about the 'gravity pocket', according to the Host's announcement, but not even the guests were buying that. John looked around at the wait staff and shivered, half thinking to himself that they looked like armed and armored soldiers waiting to fire on the crowd if they got any more anxious. Of course, in reality, their 'guns' were really trays, but nonetheless, this situation really had John on edge.

"Doctor!" Sherlock shouted, causing the Doctor and Rose to turn and face them, and Sherlock dropped his voice even lower as he approached so that only John, the Doctor, and Rose could hear him at this point. He certainly did not want to cause a panic at this moment and the Adherents of the Repeated Meme were still in the room, so if they were aware that their plans had gone awry, they would surely unleash the full deadly force of those mechanical spiders. It might well be a massacre at that point.

"It's sabotage. The Adherents of the Repeated Meme have given us all the means of our own destruction. Mechanical spiders have been snuck onboard this space station inside each of those spheres and they seem programmed to sabotage all important, life-sustaining components onboard this space station, killing anyone who gets in their way." Sherlock said.

"Ah." The Doctor said, slowly nodding as Rose's eyes boggled in shock and horror. "I thought there was something up with those spiders I saw crawling on the walls before."

"You've stumped me." Sherlock said.

"You've seen them?" John said. "And you didn't say?"

"I only saw them a few minutes ago, on my way to finding Rose and parking the TARDIS." The Doctor said. "I didn't know what they were, but-" He reached into his pocket and removed his sonic screwdriver and a penlight. "I took a quick scan of their signal before they scurried away, same as that Tree Jabe scanned me earlier." He shook his sonic screwdriver. "Did it as inconspicuously as possible before they knew what I was doing, while I pretended I didn't even see them." He winked and pointed his sonic screwdriver at the penlight, buzzing the bigger device at the smaller device. "My sonic screwdriver has done a quick configuration and found out how to deactivate the spiders' signal. It should render them inert within a given radius. The problem is the danger they've already wrought, which won't be so easily deactivated."

"Brilliant." Sherlock said, staring at the sonic screwdriver and desiring it even more.

"I know. Here you go," The Doctor said, handing over the penlight to Sherlock. "I copied the deactivation signal on here, all it can do, really. It's a bug light now. I'm designating you the bug exterminator. Go around, buzz that bug light, and any spiders within the vicinity should be deactivated."

"Glorified bug exterminator? That's it?" Sherlock asked, handing the bug light to John instead. "What about you, Doctor? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the engine rooms to see if I can't figure out what sort of trouble the bugs have caused and if I can fix it." The Doctor said. "The full extent of the damage won't show up on any scan anymore, the computer systems themselves might be compromised. I have to go in person and see. The rest of you, stay here." He ordered, walking off.

"I'm coming with you, Doctor. John, you take care of the bugs." Sherlock told his friend, following after the Doctor.

John frowned, glaring at the bug light and muttered, "You think I want to be a glorified bug exterminator, too?" He sighed and said, "Rose, do you want to come with me?"

Rose shook her head. "No, I want to talk with Lady Cassandra, the last human. I want to give her a piece of my mind and find out a little more about her, the birch." Rose grinned.

John glanced over at her and said, "Why? Do you think she's involved with this, too?"

"I'm not sure." Rose said, staring at John. "I just want a word."

"Be careful, Rose. You don't know what you're dealing with here." John told her, clasping Rose's shoulder.

"I can handle myself." Rose wiggled away from him. "Now go on, protect us all with your trusty bug light. Zap some spiders for me." She laughed, heading over to Lady Cassandra.

"All right, all right," John muttered, walking off with his trusty bug light in hand, all alone now. "Bonsai." He muttered.


	7. Chestnut Roasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of...'The End of the World'.

As soon as they left, however, the Doctor and Sherlock realized they had no idea how to reach the engine room. "There's an access shaft just behind my guest quarters." They heard a voice say, and turned around to face Jabe, who had apparently followed them out of the meeting room and overheard them talking. "If you would like, I could show you."

Sherlock and the Doctor glanced at each and shrugged, agreeing, so the Tree led the way. Sherlock thought she was harmless enough, enamored of the Doctor, perhaps. When they reached the access shaft, she asked to come along with them. "Doctor, surely we can do without her?" Sherlock insisted. "She's a liability."

"I am not a liability, and who are you? His companion? His mate? His concubine?" She asked, causing Sherlock to gape at her and the Doctor to laugh.

"Come along, Jabe, we can do with someone like you." The Doctor said, entering the shaft.

"Canopy with us." Sherlock muttered.

"Of course I can." Jabe said, smiling as she gracefully entered the access shaft. The Doctor questioned her about who ran Platform One as Sherlock moped along behind them. For a moment, as the Doctor talked about Titanic and how 'fantastic' it was that there was no to help them out here, Sherlock thought he spotted a spider. He frowned and kept going, hoping John was doing his job well.

"Why don't you build her a treehouse?" Sherlock muttered to himself as the Doctor and Jabe talked about her wealth and the tropical rainforest.

Then they stopped as the Doctor tried to access the engine room and Jabe questioned the Doctor, saying something about 'nothing else left' and knowing where he was from. Sherlock frowned to himself, wondering if she was referring to the war the Doctor had just been in. A war in which a planet—Sherlock gasped as he realized that it was the Doctor's planet, just as his, John's, and Rose's planet was about to be destroyed right now by the swelling sun. The Doctor's planet must have been destroyed in the war, and what about him? Sherlock wondered. Was he the last of his kind?

The Doctor had completely frozen and shut down, just as he did when Rose first refused to go with him, and now Sherlock could understand why. Sherlock gaped at him, horrified in spite of his usual callous demeanor, in full contemplation of the horror and grief the Doctor must have suffered through as Jabe apologized and clutched at the Doctor's leather-clad arm with her spindly, wooden fingers, finally getting a reaction out of him. The Doctor's eyes had tears in them as he turned his head to face them, but he said nothing as he touched Jabe's fingers, refusing to acknowledge her words or Sherlock's newfound knowledge otherwise before he got back to work, revitalized once more.

Sherlock turned his head away and cleared his throat, "Right, sorry," He managed to say, not looking at either one of them right now. This was getting more complicated than he could ever have imagined, if he had such feelings of sympathy for the Doctor so soon after meeting him.

"Don't mention it." The Doctor added to both of them as Sherlock and Jabe both nodded. They finally entered the engine room and marveled at this piece of engineering.

"I'm not an expert here, but it doesn't look like anything is wrong." Sherlock managed to say. "It hasn't overheated."

"No, the damage hasn't reached the engine room yet, and if we're lucky, it won't." The Doctor said, remarking on the 'retro' as he headed to the control panel, still in a bad mood after Jabe's reminder of the destruction of his planet, like he needed it when he was reminded of it every damn second of his life.

And now Sherlock had worked it out when he wasn't supposed to know, damn detective, and now the Doctor would have to deal with him and John and then Rose knowing about what he had to do, because Sherlock wouldn't shut up about it, would he? No, he would blab about it to the others, the great detective had solved another problem. The Doctor could already tell it was going to happen, the question was when and how they would react. He feared their disgust, horror, and sympathy, especially Rose. He didn't want her looking at him with that knowledge and he didn't want to deal with her or the others.

"Hopefully John takes care of the spiders." The Doctor muttered. However, as he ripped off the control panel to check it out, one of the spiders skittered out. "Damn things." The Doctor tried to knock it out with his sonic screwdriver, but Jabe got it with her liana. The Doctor incapacitated it, and both he and Sherlock examined the device to figure out exactly where it had come from.

"What about the manufacturing?" Sherlock said, uncertain about the Doctor's reaction in full awareness of his distemper. "Can you tell anything?"

"Fairly simple, cobbled-together piece of technology." The Doctor muttered to himself, not really wanting to talk to Sherlock at this point, but he didn't have much of a choice. The detective was smart as apes went, and he might have some insight into this mess. "The programming wired into it is slightly more complex, but pretty commonplace at this point in time."

"So anyone could have done it, like the Adherents of the Repeated Meme." Sherlock said, relaxing slightly, certain that they were the culprits still.

"Well, to do so on an elaborate scale, so many spiders working together and separately, requires some serious funds to produce, but yes, anyone can do it." The Doctor said, glancing up at him. Sherlock felt a chill in his bones. "Of course, if they were incredibly wealthy, like a zillionaire or a galazingaer, none of this would have been necessary. They could have sabotaged Platform One by more elaborate, complex, costlier means. So no, I don't think a real group from Financial Family Seven would have resorted to this."

"So they're fakes? Not a group of zillionaires, nor the richest persons here, but some people who might stand to gain a profit from this enterprise." Sherlock said, nodding. "Of course, that makes sense. But who are they then?"

"Not just fakes, but too obvious. I think this is set-up, a sham, a gag, a shell game." The Doctor said, tossing the spider at Sherlock. "We need to find the real culprits. Come on!" He stormed out of the engine room.

"Well, who are they, then?" Sherlock asked, exasperated as he and Jabe followed the Doctor heading back to the meeting room, probably to confront the others. He started listing the names of all the guests here on Platform One, but the Doctor dismissed most of them out of hand, still considering the possibilities of others.

"I'm impressed you can remember so many." Jabe said. Sherlock shrugged as they came across the Steward's office and discovered he had been roasted—the Doctor quickly checked out the problem and pointed out another descender coming down.

"Who puts in sun-filters that can descend? Isn't the whole point-let's go check it out." Sherlock said, frustrated and worried as the two of them rushed off while Jabe went to warn the others in the meeting room of the sabotage.

A little while earlier, John wandered along the corridors of Platform One; every couple of feet, he pressed the sonic penlight button, which emitted a pulse and, occasionally, he heard the slightly satisfying but also disturbing sound of an electrical shriek and burst. Another mechanical spider dead, but also an indication of how many had infected the inner workings of this space station, sabotaging vital components. And throughout, with no one else around to talk to, he kept muttering to himself, "'John, do you want to be a glorified bug zapper? No, I do not. Well, here you go, have fun and play nice while I go run after the Doctor, ta!' Christ, Sherlock, why do I put up with you?" John sighed to himself. "Why do I even bother?"

He turned a corner and stopped, finding himself face-to-hood with the Adherents of the Repeated Meme. "Christ, you could give a guy a heart attack!" John said, trying to act natural and friendly, but already afraid as to why they were here. One of them reached out to grab him and before John could really think, he reacted by pressing the sonic penlight button. At that point, the Adherent reacted, short-circuiting with a shriek and jerking about, hands clamping at nothing. "Christ, robots! You're just like those spiders!" John laughed, but the sonic penlight wasn't as effective with these larger robots as they were with the smaller ones. The others, being too far out of range, were moving forward, so John kept clicking as he started to run away and the Adherents pursued him.

A door opened near an end of a corridor and John ran in, not realizing that he was going into one of those damn observation rooms and a dead end until it was too late and then the door was closing right behind him. "Oh, no." John said, turning back around and pounding on the door as he shouted, "Let me out!"

"John?" He heard Rose's voice and turned around, seeing her lying on the floor below, as if she was just waking up.

"Are you hurt?" John asked, concerned as he came down to check her out. "Nasty bump on the head you got there. Let me guess, the Adherents of the Repeated Meme? They're robots, you know, just like the spiders."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "I had an argument with Lady Cassandra and I might have insulted her and told her I was the last human." Rose said, grimacing as John gazed at her in shock. "That probably made her angry. And then the Adherents got me, so…I guess it's her, then. She's programmed the robots."

"Wow, unbelievable. Sherlock was so convinced-" John started to say, but then they were blinded by the sunlight with the filter descending. John and Rose rushed to the door, screaming and pounding, and they soon heard the Doctor and Sherlock outside. Sherlock was starting to panic, realizing what was going on, but the Doctor was working as quickly and calmly as he could with the sonic screwdriver and Sherlock knew it was best not to bother him in his disturbed state. However, he still wanted a sonic screwdriver if he could have helped.

"Sherlock, it's Lady Cassandra!" John shouted, convinced this might be his last breath and he wanted to give out a final warning. "The Adherents are robots like the spiders. We think she's controlling them-"

"No, John, you are not going to die!" Sherlock shouted back at him. "We are doing this together-" Finally, the Doctor fixed the problem with the sun-filter, much to the relief of everyone else, until it malfunctioned again. "What did you do!" Sherlock shouted at the Doctor now.

The Doctor, who had been trying to stay calm, was panicking as well with Rose and John trapped and dying, babbling about the computer fighting back. "If you kill John, so help me, nowhere in the universe is safe for you." Sherlock insisted.

"Trust me, nowhere is safe." The Doctor managed to say, fully convinced that he was cursed. At last, the sun-filter rose again and seemed to stay there, although he still couldn't get them out.

"We've got to get Lady Cassandra." Sherlock said. "She's the one responsible for this." Sherlock ran off, with the Doctor following to confront Lady Cassandra, leaving John and Rose alone and trapped.

"Now what are we going to do?" John asked, depressed.

Rose held out a thumbs-up. "I declare a thumb war." John sighed and with little choice left, participated in the childish game to satisfy Rose. "Beech ya!" Rose laughed after a minute.

"Hawthorn me another opportunity." John said, getting into it.

Sherlock raved and threatened Lady Cassandra as the Doctor and Jabe held him back from killing her. Security stepped forward to arrest him, but the Doctor tried to make a reasoned appeal and prove that she was guilty, offering the spider as testimony and proving the Adherents were robots. However, security still couldn't stop Lady Cassandra from teleporting out of there and the remaining spiders from exploding, damaging their shields. Sherlock groaned and felt like tearing out his hair in frustration, but there was no time left as the Doctor had to go reset the computer in the engine room. Sherlock and Jabe raced after him to help.

"You made things worse." Jabe insisted, blaming Sherlock. "You could have been more diplomatic like the Doctor-"

"He prattled on for too long! I was trying to be useful and help John and Rose!" Sherlock said. "Besides, he hasn't always been diplomatic-"

"Will you please shut up!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, knowing where he was going with that and not wanting to get involved in a discussion of the war right now. They reached the engine room, hotter than ever before, and Sherlock cursed up a storm at learning the reset switch was on the other side of a bunch of swirling blades.

"Who designed this ship?" Sherlock shouted. "They must be a madman!"

"Shut up, I'm thinking!" The Doctor shouted back at him, calculating the speed of the blades and then turning back around, finding the switch that slowed down the blades, but it wouldn't stay down.

"I'll hold it, just go!" Sherlock shouted at him, grabbing the switch. Jabe tried to help, but Sherlock shouted at her, "Get out of here, birch! Or you'll be a chestnut roasting on an open fire with me!" Jabe panicked and fled without a word as the Doctor stared at Sherlock in horror. "Go, Time Lord." Sherlock said. The Doctor nodded and hurried, trying to avoid the swirling blades. Sherlock gasped, struggling to maintain hold and pressure on a red-hot piece of metal in a sweltering oven with the temperature rising to the surface of the sun.

"Orchard glad I didn't say banana?" John said, finishing up a joke in an effort to get Rose to laugh, when the room started burning all around them and the glass cracking. "It's been nice knowing you and the Doctor." John managed to say, grimacing as he wished—no, it was better than Sherlock wasn't here, even though he missed him.

"You and Sherlock as well." Rose said, gripping his hand as they both closed their eyes.

"Good-bye, John." Sherlock whispered, sweating profusely as he sagged, feeling like his moist, then desert-dry hands were already burning and about to give up their hold, but he was still maintaining as much pressure as he possibly could on the switch.

Finally, his hands slipped off and he collapsed, landing hard on the floor. For a moment, it felt like a cool breeze was blowing…Sherlock closed his eyes, prepared to breathe his last, when suddenly he heard someone shouting. He stirred and opened his eyes; it was a lot less brighter and hotter in here than it was before. In fact, it was as cold as it was when he, the Doctor, and Jabe first entered the engine room. He looked up at footsteps to see the Doctor wearily and sadly staring down at him.

"You all right?" The Doctor managed to say.

"A shower. A lap in your pool." Sherlock wheezed. "Cool, crisp, water—no. Ice. Lots of ice in your pool and shower. Can you do this for me?"

"Course I can. It's not every day you nearly burn yourself to death trying to save complete strangers." The Doctor said, bending down to help Sherlock up. "At least if you're not me."

"That's right." Sherlock coughed as they limped out of the engine room and back to the meeting room. "I deserve some thanks." The Doctor rolled his eyes.

After a minute, Rose and John opened their eyes to see the window repairing itself. Everything had stopped burning. They were feeling better now, breathing heavily in some relief. They managed to get out of the observation room and slowly made their way back, in time to meet the Doctor and Sherlock. John rushed forward to check on and take care of his friend, who looked like he was nearly burned half to death, while the Doctor went to check on Jabe and the other Trees, thanking her for helping them out. Jabe nodded, concerned about Sherlock, but said nothing more as the Doctor found a way to summon back Lady Cassandra.

Despite his condition, Sherlock watched with interest as Lady Cassandra was confronted by the Doctor and then she dried out—to the point of death and exploding into a bunch of pieces. Rose had appealed to the Doctor, despite the suffering Lady Cassandra had caused, because she couldn't bear to see someone suffer and die this way, but the Doctor insisted it was for the best.

John gagged slightly as the Doctor left, but Sherlock said, "It's what she deserved. The last human who caused so much death and destruction…is that what he thinks he deserves?"

"What? You mean the Doctor?" John asked as Rose wandered off as well, the two of them left alone for now.

"Sherlock? John? Are you two all right?" The two men heard a mysterious voice say, and they turned around to gape at the Face of Boe, staring down at them from his tank.

"Yes, we are, all things considered." Sherlock said, frowning as he stared at him. "Do we know you?"

"Not yet, but you will." The Face of Boe said, slowly nodding. "Just be careful, you two, and watch out for the Doctor and Rose as well. I worry that they are at a vulnerable place in their lives. How things settle out…well, only time will tell."

"What about us?" John asked, curious. "How do things fare between me and Sherlock?"

The Face of Boe grinned. "It'll be dangerous, but I think you two will make it…barely."

"Thank you for being so mysterious." Sherlock muttered.

"You're quite welcome. Have pleasant dreams, good night." The Face of Boe said, turning away from them.

"Good night?" Sherlock said, sitting up and staring at him. "With the sun burning so bright?"

"I do feel tired." John admitted. "We haven't slept in a while, since this whole thing began. Let's go find the TARDIS and see if we can't find a bed."

"A bed." Sherlock muttered, thinking as John helped him up and they limped off in search of the TARDIS. "Thank you, Face of Boe."

"What?" John said as they reunited with the Doctor and Rose, also heading for the TARDIS.

"Doctor, could we have a bedroom?" Sherlock asked as they entered the TARDIS.

The Doctor hesitated, glancing back at them, and nodded. He gave them directions to a bedroom, Rose grinning to herself, as Sherlock and John limped off together. They found the bedroom, although John was shocked to find it had one bed as Sherlock grabbed him, kissed him, and pulled him towards the bed.

"Wait a minute, I really am tired!" John gasped, pulling away and dismaying Sherlock. "While I really do love and appreciate you, I think I'm not ready yet to jump into bed together. I'm tired, you're tired, we're both overheated and nearly died a couple of times and we both need a rest. We're partners first and foremost and I don't want to jeopardize that just yet. So let's get you settled into bed, cooled down, and then we can rest in separate rooms for now, eh?"

Sherlock slowly nodded. "If you say so, John."

He complied with the doctor's wishes, settling down into bed as John conveniently found some ice packs (thanks to the intelligent, perceptive TARDIS) and cooled down the detective to normal body temperature. John kissed the detective and bade him good-night, leaving the room to find his own next door; he collapsed onto the bed and soon started snoring.

Sherlock, uncharacteristically, found himself able to sleep for a good, long period of time, probably exhausted and drained from the past day or so of running around with the Doctor. Finally, however, Sherlock stirred and awoke, as perceptive and alert as he ever was with his memories fully intact and aware of where he was. He extracted himself from the pile of ice packs, which had long since warmed up or melted to normal temperature and felt fully capable and well again to face another day of traveling with the Doctor.

He got out of bed and walked out of the room, finding his way back to the console room easily enough, given the directions the Doctor had given to him and John last night. He found the Doctor awake, sitting back and resting on the jump seat situated next to the console. "Good morning," The Doctor said, raising his head and grinning at the detective. "And how did you sleep?"

"Uncannily well." Sherlock remarked, eying him. "Almost as if I was influenced to do so. And how did you sleep, Doctor? Or do you need sleep?"

"I don't need as much as you lot do, but I don't sleep less than you lot think you need." The Doctor said, eying Sherlock. "It would be careless of me to let my friends go for very long without sleep. I don't need them dying from exhaustion. There are too many other ways that they could meet their ends as you well know by now."

"Friends? And here I was thinking that we were nearly enemies." Sherlock remarked, catching himself from exposing the look of shock on his face. He hadn't expected the Doctor to call him or John his 'friends' ever, or at least him when he didn't have any friends, apart from John.

"Well, enemies don't help each other out, or not nearly so much as you and John have, and though you are an annoyance at times, I'm willing to forgive you if you and John help me out. I believe we have an accord of sorts." The Doctor said, smiling.

"Right, friends it is, then." Sherlock said, glancing up at the Doctor in some hesitation and unexpected pleasure. More than one friend, especially one like the Doctor, might be good. "What about you and Rose? How did things go with you two? I imagine she wasn't ready yet to go to bed, so soon after the earth exploded. John and I were too exhausted and distracted to think much about it, but I believe she was more caught up in that drama than we were. Did she recover?"

"She and I stopped off for a bit on Earth in the 21st century, just to get some perspective." The Doctor said, sighing. "We had chips and I told her. About my planet and the war."

"You were keeping that so tight in your chest." Sherlock commented, shocked. "I wouldn't have said anything if you thought that I was going to blab about that."

"No, no, it wasn't that, I just thought it was time. To tell her the truth about why I had showed her all of that." The Doctor sighed. "I needed to let her know, to let you all know, how I felt. How I still feel."

"So that was the point." Sherlock said, slowly nodding. "I kind of figured that out, after a while." He frowned. "You should have told me and John we were stopping off, though, especially if it was London in our time period, soon after the Auton invasion. I could have picked up my laptop from Mickey-"

"Mickey? Rose's boyfriend?" The Doctor grimaced. "What's so important about your laptop that you would want to do that?"

"It's got all of my case files on it, my personal information, my hacker programs and all of those UNIT and Torchwood files on you-" Sherlock listed.

"What? You left all of that valuable information with Mickey?" The Doctor gaped at Sherlock, stunned. "You really are thick. Why would you go and do a thing like that for?"

"It wasn't my fault." Sherlock said. "I left the laptop with John, who left it in Mickey's car when he and Mickey were taken by the Autons. We forgot all about it until we were on Platform One, and then we forgot it again with the sun-filters descending."

The Doctor groaned and said, "We already left 21st century Earth and London behind us, we're traveling in the Vortex again. I'm not sure if I can get us straight back there." He looked up and said, "I was going to take us to 19th century Naples, 1860 to be precise, to show—well, Rose in particular, a good time in the past. It would mean a lot to me to show her a good time."

"One quick stop there in Naples, in the past, and then back home to London in the 21st century to pick up my laptop, and then we go on again, all right?" Sherlock asked. "You sure you can get us back home soon after we left?"

The Doctor nodded. "Positive. It may not be minutes after we left Mickey behind, maybe more like hours, but yeah, I can get us back in good time."

"Good to know." Sherlock smiled. "Naples it is, then. I've never been there. Is it French?"

"Something like that, Italian." The Doctor frowned to himself, wondering if Sherlock was pulling his legs, pretending not to know where Naples was. Surely he was smart enough to know that, a fairly smart human detective like himself? Hmm, well, he was about to find out.


	8. The Hearse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles Dickens on Christmas Eve with a bloody ghost

Despite Sherlock's protests of not being hungry or thirsty, the Doctor coaxed him into having some tea in the TARDIS kitchen. Sherlock grumbled to himself as he slurped some of the brew and then nicked some jammie dodgers, listening to the Doctor recite a couple of exploits to him. Eventually, John stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wearing some new old-fashioned 19th century clothes that had inexplicably shown up in the drawers of his dresser. This included a white linen shirt with an upturned collar, a beige waistcoat the same color as his trousers, a red frock coat and a bowler hat. There was also an overcoat he was hanging onto, just in case.

With nothing else to wear since his old clothes were torn, tattered, and burned from the past couple of days, John had gone ahead and changed, not certain if this was going to stand out or fit right in with wherever and whenever they were going next, though he assumed that it had to be necessary. He blearily stared at the Doctor and Sherlock sitting together, eating, drinking, and talking, surprised at seeing Sherlock look so normal. Sherlock's eyes widened at the sight of John, admiring him before he stood up, kissed him hard on the lips, and slipped his way out the door, heading back to his own room in anticipation of finding some new clothes as well.

John blushed slightly, grinning as well at this personal reminder of how much things had changed between him and Sherlock. "So how did it go last night?" The Doctor asked, eying John with a grin.

"Nothing much happened." John managed to say, soon sitting down with a cup to drink and eat, feeling famished and thirsty. "We didn't need to jump in right away, after all, not with what we had just been through. I think it's best for us to take things slow, ease into it first. We are pretty new at this, after all, or at least I am with a man. Not sure about him." John frowned to himself, wondering if Sherlock ever had a relationship with anyone.

"Right." The Doctor nodded, silent for the most part as John ate and drank, and then Rose came in soon after, asking John the very same question in a more teasing tone.

John groaned and gave pretty much the same reply, not liking to repeat himself, as Rose laughed slightly before Sherlock returned. He was dressed in the same manner as John was, though his waistcoat and trousers were black, his frock coat was navy-blue, and he had a top hat instead. Rose joked and laughed about their clothes with Sherlock and John rolling their eyes and taking the humor in stride until the Doctor told Rose about their next destination and time period. Rose quieted down, her eyebrows rising in surprise as the two other men smirked at her, but then she gleefully smiled and hurried off to get changed as well.

The Doctor, Sherlock, and John went off to the console room, ready to land soon, although the Doctor had to hold off on materializing as he fixed up something down below. Sherlock and John watched, offering advice or asking questions, and the Doctor told them to sod off after a bit, causing them both to laugh. The Doctor emerged and asked for their help in trying to materialize, although it was way more difficult than they had imagined it would be and the other two men fell onto the floor. The Doctor shook his head, grumbling about their interference, and went back to work as Sherlock and John recovered.

Rose walked into the console room in her new dress at that point and the Doctor marveled over Rose, though he tried to disguise it, causing Sherlock to arch an eyebrow and grin with some amusement over their evasive, though obvious attachment. John frowned to himself, noticing the same thing as he wondered why the Doctor would avoid Rose. The Doctor got out of his hole once more, telling Rose that they had landed in Naples, December 24, 1860, and Rose made a great speech about being able to time travel and experience moments long past and gone, marveling over the Doctor.

Sherlock now frowned to himself, catching a sour, sad note in Rose's speech that made him wonder once more at her motivation for traveling with the Doctor—perhaps she dearly wanted to experience one of these past moments for herself before it was lost forever? What if she wanted to change or prolong one of these past moments? Could the Doctor be persuaded to help her in that regard? Sherlock didn't know the Doctor's policy on time travel and interfering in past events, but he was certain that there were limits to what even a Time Lord was allowed or could do. After all, if the Doctor could change any past event he liked, then he would surely have done all he could to save his own planet.

Rose and the Doctor were practically mooning over each other as Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, and that moment is right outside those doors, waiting for us to experience it. So unless we want to go back again to this past moment, then we might as well go out now before we lose it!"

"You're hopeless." The Doctor told Sherlock as John nodded in agreement, but Rose grinned and went out on her own, experiencing that moment before the Doctor, Sherlock, and John joined her, stepping out onto the snow.

The Doctor and Rose latched arms, Sherlock and John walked side by side, close to touching, out into the Christmas Eve night, glancing around. Even Sherlock had to admit that, even aside from the coal-soaked, polluted, gaseous, shitty, and whatever else he could smell, air, the atmosphere seemed different somehow. The lights were not as bright and cheery as they used to be, so much darker and wilder as well with strange, half-hidden going-ons happening on practically every street corner and alleyway. Sherlock sort of loved it, quite different and yet not so different from 21st century London in many ways. John was intrigued as well, but he didn't question what he witnessed, he just tried to enjoy it all and soak it in with Sherlock by his side.

"I don't believe we are in the right place, though we might be in the right time frame." Sherlock said after some moments of wandering about. They heard Christmas carolers singing in the distance.

"What? Of course we are," The Doctor said, glancing back at him as Rose paused a moment to watch and listen.

"What do you mean?" John asked Sherlock, glancing at a black coach-hearse pulled up to a stop, and shivered.

"The Doctor said we are in Naples, and while I have never been there before in the past or future, I would say that this place doesn't look quite Italian or French to me." Sherlock remarked to himself, glancing at a nearby theatre. "I would say it looks almost British."

"I might agree with him." Rose remarked, disagreeable for the sake of fun.

"British?" The Doctor scoffed, shaking his head. "It's Naples, Christmas 1860, and I'll prove it to you." He walked off and purchased paper from a vendor, to confirm—Cardiff, 1869. Sherlock nearly laughed at the look of disappointment on their faces. "Shut it." The Doctor said to him before Sherlock had a chance to speak to him.

"Ah, well, I suppose he can't get everything right." John muttered to himself.

"It is disturbing, though, that the Doctor might overshoot or miss the mark when it comes to time travel, bringing us to the wrong time or place." Sherlock told John in a low voice so as not to disturb the Doctor any further. "It shouldn't be so imprecise, though he does have a rickety old machine that looks to be cobbled together out of old parts, has seen a fair share of battle, and been banged around a bit through time and space. Plus, he does have a bit of insanity and post traumatic stress."

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Sherlock." John managed to say. "We've survived a few hair-raising experiences so far and we'll probably face a whole lot more before we're done, but I think traveling to the wrong time or place could be the least of our worries!"

"I might pray you're right on that account if I believed in it." Sherlock murmured, at which point they heard screaming in the distance, coming from the direction of the theatre.

The Doctor and Rose immediately raced off towards it, with Sherlock and John close behind, ready to investigate. They managed to push and shove their way into the theatre, past the crowd running out, in time to see the ghostly figure flying about the theatre! Sherlock and John gaped at it and the Doctor raced towards the stage, babbling to the person—John turned around and gaped instead at the figure up on stage, staring at the ghost in shock and horror.

"Holy cow, it's Charles Dickens!" John cried out and laughed. "Charles Dickens on Christmas Eve with a bloody ghost—Gordon Bennet!"

"What on earth are you going on about—that woman!" Sherlock cried, running off in a different direction.

"Sherlock? Where are you going? Come back!" John shouted at him, but Sherlock had already headed out and John didn't see where he went. Rose was shouting something as well, apparently she had seen something, too, but John couldn't tell what was going on here with the crowd in the way.

"Doctor! Doctor!" John rushed over to the stage, panting and frustrated with missing out on everything. "Forget about Charles Dickens for a minute!"

"Charles Dickens?" The Doctor asked and then turned to stare- "You're right! It is Charles Dickens!" Charles Dickens blinked, still in a state of shock.

John groaned. "Sherlock and Rose have vanished! They've gone after some woman or someone that caused this ghost! Come on!"

"What about-" The Doctor paused, pointing up at the ghost, in time for them to see it being soaked up into a gaslight. John was confused by the Doctor's pronouncement that it was made of gas, but he still hurried the Doctor and Charles Dickens out of the theatre and onto the street.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and Rose had rushed out of the theatre, following after the couple that had bundled off with an old woman, and wound up at the undertakers' coach. The girl was babbling about the tragedy, but Sherlock pressed past her, checking out-"She's dead!" Sherlock shouted, turning to the frightened girl, around Rose's age, and the older man. "And judging by the signs of rigor mortis and deterioration of the body, she died days ago and has already been embalmed!"

"What?" Rose asked, checking out the body for herself, a little bit nervous at touching a corpse, but she wanted to know as well.

"Nonsense!" The older man shouted, but reaching down—Sherlock darted forward, prepared to knock a gun out of the man's hand, but instead he got smacked hard with a cane, knocking him out.

"Sherlock!" Rose cried, but the older man had a chloroform-soaked handkerchief ready, knocking her out as well. The older man and the girl quickly bundled up both Rose and Sherlock into the hearse, though it was hard, and they barely had Sherlock inside before they heard someone else calling out his name from the direction of the theatre.

"Come on, Gwyneth," The older man shouted, clambering onto the hearse and flicking the horses' reins, urging them on to a gallop with Gwyneth barely able to bang shut the hearse door and get on before they departed.

"John! What is it?" The Doctor asked as he and Charles Dickens caught up with the shorter man outside of the theatre. John was reaching into his frock coat, a frightened look on his face—"Stop, John!" The Doctor grabbed his arm and squeezed him hard, wrenching his hold. "You better not have a gun under there."

John froze at the fierce, cold glare on the Doctor's face and shivered. "So what if I am armed? Sherlock, and probably Rose as well, are in danger, if not—I just saw a woman bundling Sherlock into the back of an undertaker's coach! There!" John nodded towards the coach barreling down the street ahead.

"That is still no excuse. We never use guns, especially with innocent lives involved! With any life-form involved! We just don't. And you better learn that lesson well, or so help me, I will dump you off on the loneliest, coldest, most desolate planet I can possibly find." The Doctor said, letting go of John.

"All right, I will remember that." John muttered, letting go of his gun. "But they're still getting away."

"That's all right, we'll catch up with them." The Doctor said, running off to grab a coach with John and Charles Dickens just behind.

However, it turned out to be Dickens' coach, so the Doctor grabbed the author and pulled him inside while John had to grab hold of the coach at the rear, hanging on the outside like an old-fashioned footman as they set off after the hearse. The coach driver shouted at John and the Doctor, while the Doctor babbled at the author like a squealing fan, convincing Dickens enough to let John and the Doctor stay on board.

John sighed, relieved that they didn't have to worry about being thrown off a moving coach, although he still feared what might have happened to Sherlock and Rose. They surely had to still be alive, right? He stared ahead, gripping the coach tightly in this icy weather, and grimaced at the sight of the hearse moving farther away from them. They had to catch up before it was too late. He would not let Sherlock Holmes die. He loved him more than anything now.

Sherlock groaned as he began to revive and found himself trapped in a tight, uncomfortable, warm space, unable to move with both an unconscious Rose and a dead woman stuck in here with him—a compartment big enough for one coffin, yet still a squeeze for three people piled in together. "Let me out! Let me out!" Sherlock started shouting, banging, and kicking, losing his mind for a moment as he began to panic. Not the perfect time to discover he was claustrophobic and had an innate fear of being buried alive.

But then he stopped, calming down or losing enough breath to realize this particular approach wouldn't work as whoever had trapped him and Rose in here—the undertaker and his assistant, he recalled—would not free him so readily. Plus, it felt like they were still moving, so little chance of getting out right now, and if they did, he and Rose would be falling out of a moving coach in the middle of what was surely a busy street—bad idea if there were horses and another coach right behind them, they would be trampled.

So Sherlock tried to slow his breathing to conserve oxygen for himself and Rose, mostly through a meditation process. He did not want to lose consciousness entirely, as he might go to sleep forever, but he just let himself go deep enough inside himself so that he did not have to breathe as often as he normally did. And he thought of John in that moment, hoping that he might see his doctor soon. He would be brave for John's sake.

After a while, the hearse stopped and Sherlock stiffened slightly, aware enough of what was going on that he was prepared to fight back when the hearse door opened and someone came to pull him out. But Sherlock had forgotten about the chloroform-soaked handkerchief; he passed out again before he had the chance to swipe at the undertaker or his assistant. Sherlock and Rose were taken into the funeral parlor and laid out upon the table.

As soon as Charles Dickens' coach arrived at the funeral parlor, John jumped off and dashed at the door—finding it locked, he pounded and shouted at it, wishing he had learned enough about lock-picking from Sherlock to get inside immediately, or that he could use his gun to shoot off the handle. The Doctor sighed as he and Charles Dickens approached, aware of how upset John was at losing Sherlock and worried about the man's emotional state, if he could be a liability to himself and anyone around him, especially with that gun he was carrying.

Why wasn't the Doctor aware of the gun that John was carrying with him, and had to have been carrying with him ever since he stepped onto the TARDIS a day or so ago, because he couldn't have gotten it since then? Must be because the Doctor had gotten used to the presence of guns back in—he inhaled sharply and shook his head, yet he still could see it, the war, and the guns he used to carry with him when he wasn't the Doctor anymore.

But he was the Doctor now, or at least that's what he told himself when he swore he would never, ever wield another weapon again after…he closed his eyes, not wanting to picture it again, but he could: the button, he would always see that button forever. And he would always press it forever.

But John was him now, the gun in John's hands, the army doctor who had seen another war and been deeply, physically, and mentally scarred by it. Though the Doctor would never speak of it, never ask John any questions about it, he understood part of what John had been through more than words could ever say. So they hardly ever spoke to each other, about important stuff at least, and the Doctor wasn't aware of the gun in John's hands. Yet maybe he was, in some small part of himself, and kept watch over John to make sure that he wouldn't ever wield it again.

That's what the Doctor told himself, yet here he was with an angry, upset, armed doctor who would tear down heaven and earth to save the man he loved and the Doctor had hardly done anything so far to stop him, apart from making him let go of the gun for a moment. The mind boggled, railed, and rallied against the thought, yet it was true, the Doctor knew that. And part of him wouldn't want to stop John from using the gun anymore—he wouldn't care, or maybe he would care too much to try.

"Let me in! Sherlock!" John cried, and when the front door was finally opened by a frightened girl around Rose's age, John pushed past her without a care. She babbled about the funeral parlor being closed and the Doctor and Charles Dickens questioned her, oddly enough about the gas at one point, as John rushed through the funeral parlor rooms, still shouting for Sherlock in his frantic search as the undertaker tried to stop him several times, and got a punch in his nose for his trouble. At least John didn't whip out his gun as the Doctor had feared.

Meanwhile, Rose was roused with all of the shouting, though she was still too groggy from the chloroform to immediately respond as she noticed Sherlock lying almost as still as death next to her. She quickly checked, but breathed a sigh of relief to see that he was still breathing and alive, only unconscious. However, there was an unadorned, freshly built wooden coffin next to them in the corner, and as she watched, a whiff of blue smoke emanated from the gaslight above and whirled down into the corpse of the young man lying dead in the coffin, who began to rose.

Rose shrieked and grabbed Sherlock, dragging him off the table and away from the corpse getting out of his coffin with the old woman rising out of her coffin as well. She pounded on the door, shouting, "Doctor! John! Help!" She grabbed a vase of lilies at one point, throwing it at the corpses, but that didn't stop them at all, while Sherlock lied helpless beside her.

John, the Doctor, and Charles Dickens rushed off at the sound of Rose's call with John and the Doctor kicking in the door together. John gaped at the sight of the unconscious Sherlock, vulnerable to attack from zombies, and dragged him out of the room, checking him out and trying to revive him. "What did you do?" John questioned the undertaker and his assistant. "Drugged him and knocked him out?"

"It was what we had to do!" The undertaker cried. "He was already awake when we got him out of the hearse!"

"He was awake and aware-" John was horrified by that idea, it must have been a nightmare for Sherlock, and glared at the undertaker. "Just be glad that he is still alive."

Meanwhile, the Doctor confronted the walking dead, who had stopped at the sight of him and spoke in unearthly voices to him—Sherlock gasped as he awoke, roused by the unearthly shrieks as the 'spirits' left their bodies. "John?" Sherlock managed to say, aware of whom was attending him. "You came?"

"Of course I bloody well came, you sick-" John inhaled sharply and kissed Sherlock, hugging him tightly as Sherlock weakly responded. The undertaker and his assistant stared at them in horror, even more so than when they had faced the ghouls, but they were aware of the glares that the Doctor and Rose shot their way, just challenging them to speak out and see what happened. Even Charles Dickens managed a glare at the undertaker, though he was curious about Sherlock and John as well.

"Anyone want some tea?" The assistant asked, trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal, and hurried off to go make some.

The undertaker invited them to come sit in his private parlor, where Rose and John lashed out at him while the Doctor and Charles Dickens silently watched, observing and considering everything, though the Doctor was smiling at Rose. Meanwhile, Sherlock recovered from his experience, meditated on his thoughts, and reflected upon what he had just survived as he watched the assistant come in with tea. He noticed the fear, despair, anxiety and guilt in her eyes. She had gone through a harrowing experience and seemed most deeply affected by all of the ghosts, perhaps more sensitive than the undertaker was and suffering most of all.

He thanked her for the tea, smiling as he tried to be kind for once when John insisted that he should consider the feelings of others more often, but she hurried off away from him, more frightened than she was before. Sherlock shrugged, slightly disappointed in the failure of his experiment, but not offended when she was obviously in a poor state of mind anyway. Charles Dickens grabbed a cup and distractedly slurped.

"Who are you again?" Sherlock asked the man sitting across from him, and when he got his reply, he shrugged and said, "Never heard of you," sipping his tea and already feeling bored.

"Never heard of-" Charles Dickens sputtered and gaped at Sherlock, causing enough of a stir that even the Doctor and Rose noticed.

They were shocked and slightly outraged when they heard what was going on. "You've never heard of Charles Dickens, one of the greatest writers of British literature in the 19th century?" The Doctor asked.

"What? Why is that so important?" Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know of him, but I can always look him up if I had to, so why does that matter?"

John sighed and said, "Sherlock has this thing where if he doesn't consider something important or relevant to his cases or life, he deletes it from his mind palace." The Doctor and Rose boggled at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes at this uproar. Charles Dickens openly stared at Sherlock as well, finding him curious and fascinating at the same time.

"Mind palace?" Rose laughed. "Your brain is a mind palace? What have you got in that?"

"Everything that is important to me, so can we please stop discussing this and get back to the business at hand?" Sherlock frowned. "I would like to know more about these so-called ghosts, if that is what they really are, which I imagine is not the case." The Doctor slowly nodded.

"I agree with you there," Charles Dickens nodded, "I doubt these ghosts as well. An amateurish ploy, no doubt, to fool those superstitious enough to believe the dead can be brought back to life."

"I disagree there." Sherlock said, glancing at Dickens. "They are real, and they do revive corpses, but they are not ghosts or spirits of the departed. They are creatures, no, beings from another world."

The Doctor smiled. "Give the man a medal!" He said as Rose, John, and everyone else gaped at Sherlock.

"Are you serious?" Charles Dickens asked.

"I am." Sherlock said, nodding.

"Good God, man." Charles Dickens said, but the Doctor told Charles Dickens to pipe down, causing Sherlock and John to laugh.

The Doctor and the undertaker explained everything as Charles Dickens stormed away, leaving the room. Sherlock noticed a glance exchanged between the undertaker and his assistant with the talk of feeling the presence of the spirits; yes, perhaps she was sensitive to the presence of these ghosts or whatever they were, maybe well enough to communicate with them? That would be something that had to be explored.


	9. Revive the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyneth sees the future and the Doctor brings the dead back to life.

John himself felt the whole situation was surreal: if someone had told him a week ago that he would be traveling through time and space with an alien, meeting Charles Dickens, meeting 'the last human' (who was a trampoline skin), nearly getting killed by plastic men, almost getting burned up along with the Earth, and then saving and kissing Sherlock Holmes…he would have laughed in that person's face and then slugged that person to avoid such an obvious lunatic. The Sherlock Holmes part might have given him pause, but he would have still considered it to be too outlandish to come true.

But here he was in a nineteenth-century funeral parlor with Charles Dickens just walking out the door in a snit and having a cup of tea while discussing ghost-like aliens possessing and zombifying dead bodies with his new boyfriend and the undertaker who had attacked them. It was almost impossible to believe, except that he was living it and, though properly scared and furious at times, he was excited by it all, especially the Sherlock Holmes part. He looked across at the consulting detective, entranced and intrigued by the discussion, and loved him so very deeply, relieved that they were both alive right now.

If things were different, if they were alone and not in such a dangerous, yet politely reserved state…he might reconsider his former protestation about it being too soon for them to copulate in nineteenth-century terms. But for now, he would keep that to himself. Meanwhile, Sherlock briefly noticed John's attention to himself, but decided to overlook it for the moment as he refused to get too roped up in such mutual attraction when he still had to attend to this case, although as soon as it was over, he would attend to John as well and he looked forward to that.

"I better go check on Charles." The Doctor said, wandering off after Charles Dickens, which neither Rose nor John could get used to.

Sherlock managed to get up and set off after him, which worried John for a minute as he didn't want to let Sherlock out of his sight after that near-death scare, although perhaps Sherlock would be fine enough with the Doctor. The undertaker ordered Gwyneth to wash up and roped John into a discussion of his business, which infuriated John, especially when he couldn't stand the man. Rose went off after Gwyneth.

Sherlock and the Doctor found Charles poking about the dead bodies, 'checking for strings' as the Doctor said to find out if there was another kind of secret, ploy, or explanation beyond what the Doctor and Sherlock had supplied for the events of this evening. As the Doctor attentively listened, and Sherlock rolled his eyes in exasperation, Charles prattled on about illusions and the real world being something else, or so he had believed, until this evening had broken down and blurred his vision until he couldn't think straight and worried if his life had any meaning or value.

"Yes, the real world is an illusion. Society's perception is warped and stained by misdirection, illusion, trickery and wrong-headed beliefs, but what of it?" Sherlock said, causing the Doctor to frown at him for being inappropriate and inconsiderate as Charles Dickens stared at him in shock and horror. "Life has no real value beyond what we make of it and I say we should make a hell of it. Take as much of an advantage as we can out of life and do whatever needs to be done to live and not be so bored all of the time. You cannot make life worth living unless you do something about it to make it worthwhile."

Charles Dickens gaped at him and murmured, "Perhaps you are right about that."

"Nice job, Sherlock." The Doctor managed to say.

"Thank you, I think." Sherlock muttered, turning and walking away to rejoin the others. "Anything to shut him up." The Doctor and Charles Dickens followed after him.

John, tired of listening to the undertaker, managed to excuse himself and went to check on Rose and the other girl, Gwyneth, finding them laughing over school and boys. John eavesdropped on them until they reached a quiet point, talking about Gwyneth's parents being up in paradise and then Gwyneth mentioned Rose's dad. John's eyes widened and he was startled slightly to hear footsteps behind him and a hand on his shoulder.

"Have I missed anything?" Sherlock asked, intrigued.

"They're just talking…" John muttered, but both of them silently watched as Gwyneth peered into Rose's eyes and saw so much of their 21st century, speaking of 'darkness' and the 'big bad wolf' as well, that it seemed like more than mere coincidence. The two fellows were so wrapped up in what she was saying, that they didn't notice the Doctor joining them as well.

As Gwyneth stumbled backwards, away from Rose, she turned to Sherlock, John, and the Doctor and gasped at them in horror as well. "The dead bodies you three have seen and are yet to see." Gwyneth whispered. "The wars you three have been through, on and off battlefields, and the wars you are yet to see. Such terrible violence, anger, and sorrow all throughout the stars and beyond and the smiling men with hyena grins who will plague you three, oh, my stars!" She hid her face in her hands, crying.

"Tell me more." Sherlock said, striding forward to grasp the girl by the shoulders when no one else would make a move. "Tell me more of what you see."

"Sherlock, please leave her alone." Rose and John both said, distraught, though the Doctor remained silent.

"How far you will fall, how lost you will be, you and the Doctor especially." Gwyneth said, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. "Will you ever return home again or will there be a home to return to? In love you three are, but will that love last forever? I can't see anymore."

Sherlock grimaced and let go of the girl, not wanting to hear anymore either, as John shook his head, refusing to believe while the Doctor stared at Gwyneth, aghast. Rose lowered her head before the Doctor spoke again, talking about Gwyneth's second sight getting stronger, part of the rift's influence—Sherlock's eyes widened. "She can really see into the future?" He asked.

The Doctor nodded. "The future, the past, the present, the might-have-beens and never-weres, she can hear and see glimpses of other worlds and times."

"Oh god, no," John said, trying to deny…he didn't want to believe that his love might fail before it had a chance to take-off, yet here he was being presented with that possibility. It was just what he had feared from the start.

"We can make this work, John." Sherlock managed to say, though he feared the same. Rose and the Doctor refused to look at each other at this point, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility either, especially when they weren't in love yet, though it was there in the back of their minds, that possibility and doubt over their own hearts and feelings.

The Doctor said they would be holding a séance with John grimacing and saying, "What, we're going to be calling upon the ghost-like aliens to come and—oh. That's exactly what we are doing, aren't we?" The Doctor nodded.

"Oh, goody." Sherlock said, smiling. "I've always wanted to experience a true séance."

They went back into the drawing room and sat round a table, with even Mr. Sneed and Charles Dickens joining hands, though it was rather crowded and Dickens muttered at the sheer folly of it all until the ghost-like aliens started to appear and the Doctor urged Gwyneth to establish a connection. And the Gelth came, speaking to them about the Time War and being the last of their kind.

"Just like the Doctor." Sherlock muttered, suspicious.

"What is this?" John asked, glancing around at the Doctor, Rose, and Sherlock with their grim faces, but he wasn't getting an explanation out of any one of them as the Gelth continued on, asking for dead bodies to possess. Rose protested, but the Doctor overruled her.

"Would this be good for my business?" The undertaker asked.

"Is it a temporary solution?" John asked the Gelth and the Doctor. "I mean, the dead bodies are decomposing, surely they can't live like that forever."

"Perhaps," The Doctor said, nodding as the Gelth soon vanished and Gwyneth fainted, exhausted from channeling the Gelth with Rose, John, and the others worrying and checking after her, though Sherlock remained at a slight remove, considering the situation.

"Isn't this dangerous for Gwyneth?" John asked the Doctor soon after the girl revived. "Aren't we using her just as much as-"

"I'm not being used or taken advantage of if that's what you think. I am helping them out of goodness and mercy, like any decent person would." Gwyneth muttered, glancing at John. "They need me when they are so helpless. How can I refuse them?"

"Of course we can't refuse them," Mr. Sneed said, nodding. "Especially if they are willing to pay for the privilege." The others sighed in exasperation at Mr. Sneed's greed.

"Yeah, listen to her." The Doctor said, nodding. "She wants to help them and I think we should, just to give them a fair chance at life. It might not be the perfect solution, but it's probably temporary until we can find another for them."

"All of this trouble just to find out what they are doing here and what's it all for and we haven't really gotten to the bottom of it." Sherlock muttered, causing the others to glance at him. "It seems very convenient to me that they are survivors of the Time War and the last of their kind, just like the Doctor, and-"

"Hold on a second here!" John cried, standing up. "What is this? Would someone please explain to me what this is all about?"

"I fought in the Time War, me and the rest of the Time Lords against our greatest enemy," The Doctor said, standing up to face John. "Millions of worlds, life-forms, and civilizations were affected, a lot of them collapsed and died, and that happened to me. My planet is gone, my people are dead, and I am the last surviving Time Lord."

"Oh. Oh my god." John gaped at the Doctor. "I didn't know, I'm sorry. I am…the last one here to know, aren't I?" He asked, looking at Sherlock and Rose in particular.

"I didn't know." Charles Dickens said, slightly drunk.

"And you believe it's your fault, don't you, that the Gelth are like this?" Sherlock asked the Doctor.

"Yes." The Doctor said.

"But they might be taking advantage of you there if they know who you are and what you have experienced by going through the rift. Do we know that they are telling the truth? Have you heard of the Gelth before? I don't believe you have." Sherlock said.

"I'm willing to risk it to help someone, anyone." The Doctor said.

"This is hopeless." Sherlock muttered as Rose and the Doctor also got into an argument before Gwyneth ended the discussion, insisting that they had to help. So they trooped down into the morgue as Sherlock grimaced, glancing around. "Molly would have had a fit if she had seen the state of this place."

"Who?" Rose asked.

"Dr. Molly Hooper, she helps Sherlock out at St. Barts' morgue." John said as Rose nodded and tried to discuss the problem with the Doctor, but things quickly got out of control. Gwyneth stepped into the archway before the Gelth made any promises not to hurt her, and though the Doctor tried to negotiate with the Gelth and insist that this was a temporary solution, the Gelth rushed out of Gwyneth in a furious storm.

"A few billion in force?" Sherlock shouted over the roar. "This doesn't look much like a temporary solution, this looks more like an invasion force!"

"All right, fine, I made a mistake, you happy?" The Doctor shouted back at him. "I just wanted—never mind." He wanted to make up for what he had done, even though it was impossible now, he realized, to stop himself from pushing that button.

Mr. Sneed tried to stop Gwyneth, but he got killed, and Charles Dickens ran out of the room when he was close by the door and ignored by the Gelth. "Coward!" Sherlock shouted out at him.

"It's pointless, Sherlock, let him go." John muttered, seeing the zombies trooping towards them and they retreated towards a gated alcove, possibly a kiln for cremation. "He probably won't survive for long either. What an appropriate place for us to be in."

"I'm sorry, John, I never imagined this would happen." Sherlock said, glaring at the dead people groping for them. "I'm just so angry at the unfairness of it all that this had to happen. It shouldn't be true."

"It's not your fault or anyone's, really. Who could have believed this would happen?" John said, shaking his head when he didn't want Sherlock blaming the Doctor either. "It's all right, I guess. At least we're together at the end, and that counts for something."

"John…" Sherlock said, turning to embrace him hard, feeling like he wanted to weep, yet couldn't. The Doctor and Rose faced death together as well when suddenly, Charles Dickens rushed back into the room, shouting about the gas. "Gas? Of course!" Sherlock shouted, laughing to himself, delirious. "How could we be so stupid?"

"Like this?" The Doctor said, pulling on the gas switch for the cremation kiln they were standing in, and suddenly, just like Charles Dickens said, the Gelth were sucked up into the air, out of the bodies. They rushed out of the kiln, Rose, Sherlock, and John in particular coughing up a storm when they had been exposed to a ton of gas, and the Doctor went up to Gwyneth, pleading for her to send them back, but Sherlock frowned as he studied her.

"Dead. She's dead." Sherlock managed to say, feeling like he might pass out, but John helped him up as the Doctor urged them to go. The four humans fled through the house, coughing and choking, out into the relatively fresh, open air, breathing in heavy gulps of nineteenth-century Cardiff.

"Free. We're free!" John laughed, almost collapsing onto the snow-covered ground, which wasn't exactly crisp and clean, with Sherlock on top of him.

Sherlock shook his head and rolled off of him, sighing. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, you?" John said and Sherlock responded by kissing him forcefully, the couple embracing as Rose and Charles Dickens recovered off to the side.

"Sex maniacs." Charles Dickens said with a laugh.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, humbug." Sherlock said as the Doctor rushed out of the house, which exploded behind him, showering them with debris and heating them up a bit.

"Oh my god!" John gasped as they shielded themselves from the force of the explosion, "Gwyneth." He said, realizing what was happening. The Doctor explained the situation, astonishing Rose and John in particular, though Sherlock grimaced to himself as he had realized it before.

"She was dead, yet there had to be something left in her subconscious." Sherlock muttered. "An echo if you would of what she had once been." It was the best attempt at a rational explanation that he could possibly manage. They set off soon after, back to the TARDIS, with Charles Dickens following after them, blabbering about his ideas and notions.

"Thank you, Sherlock Holmes, for helping me to see that." Charles Dickens said, shocking John in particular.

"You're quite welcome. Good-bye." Sherlock said, managing a smile as he entered the TARDIS with John bidding farewell as well.

"What did you say to him?" John asked Sherlock, following him and leaving the Doctor and Rose to say good-bye to Charles.

"Oh, nothing much, but it was important to him." Sherlock said as the pair of them watched the scene on the console monitor. "It was—I haven't read much classical literature, as some people call it, and I remember even less, but there is a line that sticks with me from one piece in particular, the beginning of Paradise Lost."

"Really? What is it?" John asked, intrigued.

"The fallen angel Lucifer turns to a friend of his after they reach Hell and basically says, the mind can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven. It's all in the mind, how we perceive and respond to things." Sherlock said, turning to John. "And I told Charles Dickens to embrace his life, make something worthwhile out of it. Make a hell of it." He grinned and John kissed him again, right there on the console.

"Oi, you two! Enough!" The Doctor shouted as he and Rose entered and the two fellows parted.

"Sorry." John said, blushing as Sherlock laughed. Rose asked the Doctor about Charles Dickens and the Doctor explained that he would die next year, which sort of dampened the mood a bit for everyone, reminding them of death and destruction once more. The Doctor gave Charles Dickens one last thrill, seeing the TARDIS dematerialize, and then explained that at least they got to see the man live again.

"That is what you do, is it not, Doctor?" Sherlock asked, facing the Time Lord. "You bring the dead back to life. You revive them when you see them living, breathing, loving, laughing, working and scheming again. Everywhere you go throughout time and space, all of the places you've seen and all of the people you've met, for one brief, shining moment you bring the dead back to life and they live again for you to see, witness, and visit."

"Sherlock, please, let's not discuss this." John muttered, concerned about the Doctor's reaction.

"I suppose you're right about that." The Doctor said, sighing. "But sometimes the dead stay dead or they die all over again right before your eyes. Sometimes it's not worth the trouble or bother, but I keep living, they keep dying, and I still visit them. Pop in to say hello and good-bye." He grimly smiled at his dark joke.

"It's still magnificent in some ways." Sherlock said, thoughtful. "I used to imagine what it would be like to go back in time and see a murder happen. Witness the victim and the murderer interacting with each other and how events played out or unfolded for the murderer and the victim to be in that position-"

"You're way too morbid." The Doctor said, shaking his head.

"Sometimes you have to be to face the level of crime and bloodshed I've seen. Though it is but a fraction of what you've seen, right, Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"Leave me alone." The Doctor muttered.

"Maybe we are too wrapped up in melodrama." John suddenly said to himself, trying to levy the mood. "Whatever happened to being camp?"

"That went out the window ages ago." Sherlock shrugged. "We can only be camp when we're not in so much danger all of the time and there is bound to be more soon." He remembered what Gwyneth had told them, especially himself, John, and the Doctor in particular. He didn't want to face that.

"But that's no excuse. We can still be camp and enjoy ourselves sometimes when we're not in deadly danger, right?" John asked. "It doesn't have to deathly morbid all of the time."

"That's exactly right, Sherlock and John." The Doctor said, nodding. "Listen to the man. That's what I try to do, you know. I try to smile and laugh and have a good time even when things are getting dangerous and agitated. I try to enjoy myself, put on a brave face, a great big smile and love every minute of it even though my whole planet and all of its people, except for me, have been wiped out of the universe!" The Doctor gasped and inhaled as everyone stared at him in horror. "I try to smile and be happy, no matter how hard it is."

"I'm sorry." John said, retreating.

"Let's go back to London in the 21st century." The Doctor muttered, turning to the console. "Enjoy ourselves there."

"Doctor, I'm sorry about all of this, I really am." John said again, shaking his head, worried about the Doctor's grim mood and if he might kick them out of the TARDIS in a foul temper, traveling on again alone, endangering himself with a death wish. "I didn't know, no one told me…"

"It's not your fault, John, although we do have to fetch back Sherlock's laptop with all of those important files that you accidentally left behind in Mickey's car." The Doctor said, slightly more light-hearted.

"Oh. Oh." John said, slightly relieved as it sounded like this might be a stop-over, not a full stop. "Yes, let's get that back and then carry on, shall we?"

"And I can get some of my stuff and a passport, tell my mom that I'll be traveling…" Rose said.

"And I can apprise Mycroft of the situation and tell Lestrade and all of my clients that I shall be unavailable for the foreseeable future." Sherlock said, nodding. "Sounds good to me as well."

"Great, everybody's happy." The Doctor said, still grim and worried about the future as well. He could still see that button flashing…


	10. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to 21 century London, Sherlock and John discover their absence has been noticed and the fallout of 'Aliens of London' starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I've said before, I've made some canon changes to this story and some of the timelines/pacing of story lines may not exactly match up with the changes I've made. Please excuse any time bumps.

Still dressed in nineteenth century clothing, Rose, Sherlock, and John retreated to their rooms to change, and while Rose had a hell of a time of it, she managed. She stepped out of her room just as Sherlock did and they paused, staring at each other. Rose smiled and awkwardly approached, holding out her hand. "Thanks for coming after me, earlier. I never got the chance to say anything."

"Think nothing of it." Sherlock said, nodding and not shaking. "You and I were both after the same thing, finding out more about that woman and the ghost. We just got caught together."

"Right. We really haven't had a chance to talk, you and me leastways, since yesterday I suppose when you told me about the Doctor at my flat." Rose shook her head as she removed her hand. "I couldn't believe you then, but now…god, it's so amazing, everything he does. How long have you known about him?"

"To tell you the truth, I only found out about the Doctor a few hours before you did." Sherlock said. "I just received a bunch of files from my brother on him and researched him quite extensively, memorizing, analyzing, and digesting the information."

"Really? That's amazing, you sounded like such an expert." Rose said, blinking.

"I try my best and for the most part, I am an expert in many areas. I retain quite a lot of information in my mind palace."

"Right, that's a good one." Rose laughed. "So anyway, nice talking to you. Hope you and John are doing well." She turned to leave.

"Rose, there is one thing I wanted to ask you." Sherlock hesitated and finally he said, "I know why you wanted to travel with the Doctor. Gwyneth mentioned you had been thinking of your father a lot…I'm assuming he's dead?"

Rose halted in her steps and gaped at Sherlock. "How did you—yeah, he's dead and I had been thinking…time travel, you know? What's the point of it if you can't go see someone like Charles Dickens who is long since gone? What's the difference if it is my own father?"

"Careful." Sherlock cautioned. "I don't know much about time travel, but I'm assuming there are rules or limitations to it."

"The Doctor hasn't exactly been careful thus far, has he?" Rose asked. "We've been mucking about a bit in the past and future, and times change, according to the Doctor. He was all ready to let the Gelth invade those bodies."

"That was different. It didn't happen, and if it had…well, maybe it wouldn't have had too much of an effect." Sherlock frowned to himself.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Rose said. "My father is just the same."

"But if time changes too much, then how can the universe remain stable?" Sherlock said. "Your father is the reason you decided to time travel to…save or see him again, so if something does happen to change that, then it wouldn't happen."

"The universe wouldn't explode if something happened with my father." Rose said.

"I'm just saying, think about what you are doing before you ask the Doctor to help you in this endeavor. You should consider the consequences." Sherlock said.

"All right, fine, I'll think about it. You won't tell him about my idea before I'm ready?" Rose asked.

"I won't say anything before you are ready." Sherlock said. He knew it wouldn't do any good for anyone when neither the Doctor nor Rose would be willing to listen.

"Thanks. Nice talking to you." Rose muttered as she turned and walked away from him towards the console room.

Sherlock watched her go as John exited his room. "Ah, they've got a good shower on here, you should try it." John said, wiping back his damp hair. "So, ready to go?" He asked Sherlock.

"Always." Sherlock smiled and clutched John's hand as they followed after Rose to rejoin the Doctor. They all soon exited the TARDIS, back on the Powell Estate, and exuberantly glanced around, the humans glad to be back in the 21st century for the moment as they reflected on all they had seen, felt, and experienced over the past couple of days. Sherlock grinned as he checked his cell reception, back to normal.

Before Rose left to head to her flat, she asked John, "Do you and Sherlock need any help finding Mickey's place?"

"No, I think I know where it is. I visited it with you before that Auton business blew up in our faces." John said, glancing around. He recited the directions to Mickey's flat and Rose nodded, confirming that he had gotten it right before she left.

"You do have a memory, good for you, John." Sherlock said, grinning as John playfully punched him in the arm. He was texting his brother and Lestrade to inform them that he would be gone for a short while.

"And just for that, I'm going to go get the laptop back by myself." John said, walking off in the direction of Mickey's flat. "You two have fun!"

"Got it." Sherlock said, not really paying attention to John at the moment as the Doctor chuckled, shook his head, and wandered off on his own.

Suddenly, Sherlock's phone was buzzing after he sent the texts. He frowned as he saw who was calling and answered, "What is it, Lestrade?"

"Gone for a short while? You've been gone for a bloody month already!" Lestrade shouted on the other end, deafening Sherlock. "Where in hell have you and John been? Did you two run off with that Rose Tyler girl as well? We've had a worried mother calling us-"

"What?" Sherlock gasped, shaking his head. "No, no, no, listen to me, Lestrade, I can explain, we can explain everything. Rose is back, we're here at the Powell Estate-"

"Don't move a solitary muscle! I'm coming over there." Lestrade hung up just as Sherlock received another call.

"Damn it." Sherlock muttered, seeing who it was, before he answered, "Hello, Mycroft."

"So nice to hear from you again, Sherlock." Mycroft said. "I was beginning to give up hope. Did the Doctor happen to inform you three that he brought you back home a little late?"

"No, he didn't, he thought he was bringing us back home a few hours after we left." Sherlock said, turning about. "Although I should not have supposed that he would be entirely reliable on that account. We've had some time travel problems already with arriving at the exact place and time."

"Time travel, what a marvelous thing that must be." Mycroft sighed. "You must tell me all about it."

"I intend to someday, but not right now." Sherlock fumed. "Lestrade is furious with me. He's coming down to the Powell Estate right now. I think we might be in trouble if kidnapping charges are being leveled against us. Rose Tyler is fine, by the way, she should be back home in her mother's arms by now."

"Excellent news, glad to hear of it, otherwise we would have had a serious mess on our hands. But now we shall have that trouble sorted out in no time at all." Mycroft said. "By the way, I did get your laptop back from that girl's nervous boyfriend, Mickey Smith. Excellent fellow, though, once he started to cooperate with us." Sherlock stiffened as he listened to his older brother. "You really should not have left the laptop behind. Could have caused us a world of problems, nearly did cause a fuss when Mickey blabbed too much about the Doctor to the police. Eventually he did back off on his accusations."

"I hope you didn't hurt him." Sherlock said.

"Not too much." Mycroft said. "He's probably recovered by now. Listen, I have to go and deal with your sordid mess as well as a few other problems. Be sure to call Mum and Dad before too long, they have been worried sick."

"Did you tell them where I was?" Sherlock asked.

"I mentioned some things, though not a whole lot. They did pester me about it." Mycroft was probably frowning. "I've got to go, good-bye."

"Good-bye." Sherlock muttered as the Doctor ran up to him, holding up a piece of paper with a 'Missing' advertisement on it for Rose. "I know! We've been gone for a whole month!" Sherlock shouted and sighed, exhausted.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" The Doctor started to say.

"Is there any way we can come back again in the past before we went missing for a month?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "It's been established, we've been gone for a month. We can't change that now, we're part of it."

"Time travel, of all the lousy rules-what's the point of it if you can't change these things?" Sherlock asked and then sighed again. "Fine then. We'll get on with it. Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard is coming over to check that Rose is back and my brother Mycroft is going to erase the kidnapping charges leveled against me and John. He already got the laptop back from Mickey. Should we check in on Rose?"

The Doctor gaped at him and shrugged. "Might as well."

However, before they could, John and Mickey Smith suddenly rushed up towards them. "Is Rose back? Is she fine?" Mickey asked, striding up to the Doctor.

"Yeah, she is." The Doctor said and swerved to avoid a fist that Mickey swung at him with John and Sherlock trying to restrain the young man.

"You bloody well deserve worse than that! Leaving us here worrying about her, gone for a whole month with Inspector Lestrade, the police, and bloody Mycroft Holmes questioning me and Rose's mum. I get blamed for everything and arrested five times, not to mention being brought in to be interrogated by-" Mickey kept on ranting at the Doctor, staring at him in horror, until the young man calms down and shakes off Sherlock and John.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor said.

"Bloody well right." Mickey sighed. "Well, where is she, Rose? Is she up at her flat?" The others nod and Mickey said, "Might as well go up there and see how they're handling it. Have the police been called yet?"

"Inspector Lestrade is coming." Sherlock muttered.

"Terrific." Mickey said and they all tromp upstairs to meet a now furious Jackie Tyler, who thoroughly slaps Sherlock, John, and even the Doctor, ranting and raving at them.

Inspector Lestrade and several constables arrive to quell the domestic disturbance and question the participants involved. Rose insists that she was not kidnapped, that she ran away from home and traveled with the other fellows. Inspector Lestrade and the constables are skeptical when they doubt that anyone would willingly travel with Sherlock Holmes. But they accept it for the most part, especially when Mycroft Holmes calls Lestrade to clear up the matter in his own way.

"Who is it? It's that woman, isn't it, or her employer? The one who offered me compensation? Fat chance!" Jackie cried, causing Rose and Mickey to stare at her in shock.

"Mum, this isn't like you." Rose said.

"What do you expect? My own daughter, my only child, goes missing and someone offers to pay me off cheap to keep me quiet? Do you think I would be willing to accept that?" Jackie asked. The others don't say anything, though Rose feels somewhat gratified in an odd, unsatisfactory sort of way.

"Listen, Ms. Tyler, suffice it to say that there is no evidence or case to be built up against Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, or this…bloke at the moment." Inspector Lestrade said, staring at the Doctor in some perplexity and curiosity as to who he was, but apparently he was mixed up in some of Mycroft's important, though mysterious, government business. "Rose is well, she doesn't seem to have been coerced, forced, or kidnapped, and apparently this is a legitimate business she was involved in, so there's nothing to be done. The others are free to go."

"Right, thank you, but don't sound so disappointed. Do you want me to be guilty of something?" Sherlock asks Lestrade.

"One of these days, Sherlock, you and your friends are probably going to get into big trouble that neither me nor your brother can get you out of. I'm ashamed to say I don't want to see that day." Lestrade said as John glanced back and forth between them, a bit worried.

"Hang on, Sherlock's brother—is he the one who tried to pay me off?" Jackie asked, agape. "That's not right or fair!"

"I know, I know, but that's the way things are." Lestrade muttered. "And you would have a hard time trying to sue him."

"Can I at least get an apology of some sort?" Mickey asked and Lestrade recited the standard procedure for filing a complaint against Scotland Yard and the police until Mickey waved him off.

"I'm certainly going to file a complaint." Jackie said.

As Rose and her mum retreat to the kitchen to hug, Sherlock, John, and the Doctor, with Mickey trailing behind, snuck out of the flat, glad to be free from its constrictive environment. "I need some air." Sherlock muttered.

"What about the roof, since we can't leave yet?" The Doctor asked.

"What about Mrs. Hudson and our flat?" John asked Sherlock.

"Oh, you're right about that." Sherlock said, turning to the Doctor and Mickey. "John and I are going back to our flat, 221B Baker Street, to settle up with our landlady and see how things are going there. Do any of you want to come?"

"I've got to wait for Rose at least." Both Mickey and the Doctor said, staring at each other.

"Right." Sherlock said, nodding as he recognized the growing conundrum here. "See you later." Sherlock raced off down the stairs, not wanting to get involved in that mess, and John said good-bye as well.

"Um…you won't be leaving without us, right?" John asked the Doctor.

"Course not. And just so you know, here-" The Doctor reached in his pocket and pulled out two keys. "The TARDIS had three of them, ready and waiting lying on the console, when we got back from nineteenth century Cardiff and Charles Dickens."

"Charles—bloody hell, what have you lot been up to?" Mickey asked, shaking his head.

"Nothing much, just gate-crashing an end of the world party and met Charles Dickens and some alien ghosts." The Doctor grinned at a flabbergasted Mickey before he told John, "Those keys let you and Sherlock into the TARDIS at any time and place. Not many can access it, you know, so guard them well."

"Thanks. Thank you very much." John said, gaping as he accepted the two keys, one each for himself and Sherlock, and felt a warm glow. "I should probably thank the TARDIS as well." He laughed.

"Might not be such a bad idea." The Doctor added before John suddenly hugged him, thanked him again, and ran off after Sherlock, leaving the Doctor flabbergasted now. How long had it been, the Doctor wondered, since anyone had hugged him? Must have been ages by his reckoning, since…don't even think about it.

"Bloody hell." Mickey said, contemplative as he walked away. "Alien ghosts." The Doctor shook his head and went upstairs to the roof, hoping that Rose would follow him.

After Sherlock received his TARDIS key, which he gleefully examined and stowed safely away in a hidden pocket, John and Sherlock caught a cab. "It's still not enough, though. I want my own sonic screwdriver." Sherlock suddenly said as they got into the cab.

"What? Well, you're certainly not getting one." John said before he gave the driver the address, got his credit card swiped for the fare, and they left.

"Why not? Why can't he or the TARDIS make me one? It should be simple enough." Sherlock asked.

"I doubt it." John muttered.

"The TARDIS made us those keys." Sherlock said. "What's the difference? The TARDIS can probably create or produce anything. I wouldn't be surprised on that account. It certainly does expand and create new entire rooms for guests."

"Sherlock Holmes, you're not getting it. I'm fairly certain that only the Doctor gets a sonic screwdriver. We get TARDIS keys." John said, exasperated. "We're probably lucky to even have that sonic penlight bug-zapper thing he gave me and I doubt I'll get to keep that thing for long. I'm certainly not going to be able to keep my gun."

"What? What happened? Did you use it or show it to the Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"I nearly did use it when Mr. Sneed ran off with you and Rose." John said, leaning against Sherlock. "I was going to try shooting the bastard and his coach when the Doctor stopped me." He glanced up at Sherlock. "I was afraid of losing you. I didn't want that to happen. So yes, I lost my head there and the Doctor got mad at me, threatened to desert me on some cold, inhospitable planet if I tried again."

Sherlock, who had wrapped his arms around the doctor to try comforting him and reassure him that he was still here, froze and frowned at the Doctor's threat. "That's not right at all." He said. "How dare he do that to you?"

John shrugged. "What can you do? I suppose the Doctor is right in some regard. We shouldn't be armed and threaten innocent lives, especially when we don't know the consequences of our actions and are so emotionally and mentally unstable at the time. Worried about others, in my instance."

"He should have understood your dilemma, and the fear you were experiencing." Sherlock said. "The Doctor could have done a better job of handling the situation without threatening you like that."

"The Doctor did understand. He felt that way once, I'm sure." John said. "The Doctor is recovering from that Time War, don't forget, and the death of his planet. I didn't know about it at the time, but now I understand why he has such a hang-up about being armed and using guns. I would probably feel the same way if so much terrible tragedy had affected me. My whole planet, everyone I ever knew and loved, even those I didn't know—destroyed, killed in a terrible war. I couldn't live with that, stand the pain. I'm surprised he did. It could have gone worse between me and him. He could have been a lot worse."

"You're right." Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. "It could have been worse, he could have been worse. I don't understand why he hasn't fallen apart already. He's almost on the verge, I'm sure, right on the edges of that pain and insanity. Why and how he hasn't fallen over the brink already, I don't know."

"Maybe because he has hope that something good would come along?" John asked. "Like Rose or whoever?"

"You may be right about that." Sherlock said, snuggling against the doctor. He certainly had found something good here, and he wasn't going to let go of John either.

As they arrived at 221 Baker Street and got out of the cab, they heard a loud honking noise echoing throughout the neighborhood and beyond and looked up to see a large shadow coming from the direction of the Powell Estate in the distance. John's eyes widened. "Is that a spaceship?"

"Bloody hell." Sherlock laughed as the spaceship passed over Tower Bridge in the distance, swerved over Central London past St. Paul's, turning round over Parliament and then…"Oh, no way." He said as the spaceship's wing crashed and ripped its way through 'Big Ben' clock tower. "Mycroft is going to have a really bad day today." He said, grinning and shaking his head as it crash-landed in the Thames.

"What are we going to do?" John asked. "We can't get hold of the Doctor right now. He's all the way across the river. We really should have gotten Rose's mobile number for emergencies such as this one."

"No worries. If Mycroft is dealing with an alien crash-landing in the Thames…" Sherlock's mobile rang. "Then he will deal with it through us." He answered, "Hello, dearest brother Mycroft."

"Where is he?" Mycroft asked, coldly furious, fuming and half-panicked. "Where is that trouble-making, meddling Doctor? This is all his fault, I know."

"Not everything is related to him, though he does tend to show up when things go south." Sherlock said. "John and I are back at 221, but the Doctor stayed at the Powell Estate with Rose. You need to go fetch him and Rose as well, she is his better half. Can John and I come?"

"Fine. Just hurry up while I arrange transportation over here." Mycroft said. "With the gridlock and citywide shutdown, it's going to take a helicopter to fetch the Doctor now."

"Certainly will do." Sherlock said, hanging up. "Come on, John. Might as well take the laptop with us again and grab some of our stuff. Hopefully we won't lose it again. And Mrs. Hudson will certainly be glad to see us."

"She certainly wouldn't slap us like Ms. Tyler did." John remarked, earning a laugh as they entered 221 and surprised Mrs. Hudson.

She cried as she hugged them and they briefly explained the situation as best they could, astonishing her. They ran upstairs, grabbed their stuff, kissed and hugged Mrs. Hudson on their way out with protestations and offers of baked goods and tea being made. Finally they got away and hoofed their way over to Mycroft's London headquarters with a helicopter waiting for them on the roof.

Anthea waited for them just inside. "Your brother sends his regards. He's busy at the moment."

"Naturally." Sherlock said.

"A body's been found inside the spaceship, certainly non-terrestrial in origin." Anthea told Sherlock and John, astonishing them. "It's been taken to St. Barts morgue under UNIT supervision."

"Molly is going to be the first person to perform an alien autopsy on Earth." John said, gasping and shaking his head.

"Technically she is not the first, just the first public one." Anthea added.

"I could have told him that." Sherlock said, though he was a little disappointed not to be there when Molly performed the autopsy, certain that it would prove interesting and enlightening.

Meanwhile, Lestrade muttered, "Alien spaceship crash lands in the middle of London, and I'm stuck here on the bleeding wrong side of the river! Bloody Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler."

He called Donovan and tried to organize police response to the riots caused by the alien crisis. However, it wasn't the best way of managing things from his perspective, with little clue as to what sort of emergencies were taking place, how effective the response was, and the general atmosphere. He tried calling Mycroft several times to ask for help, but Mycroft was busy, and Lestrade only managed to get ahold of Anthea.

"I'm flying to the Powell Estate to pick up the Doctor and a Miss. Rose Tyler with Sherlock and John." Anthea said, astonishing the detective inspector. "If you want to be back in central London as soon as possible, this is the best chance you have to take."

"Bloody hell, I'll be there. Just wait for me!" Lestrade cried, hanging up and racing back to the Powell Estate, still muttering about Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler the entire way.

At the same time, or perhaps a little while before or after, Molly nervously stared at the soldiers posted along the corridor as she headed to the morgue and was confronted by General Asquith and his team once she was inside, blocking her view of the body lying on the slab, though she could see the doctor in scrubs behind them. "Who are you?" General Asquith asked.

"I'm Molly Hooper, the current specialist registrar on duty." She said, showing him her name tag and even her ID as the other doctor looked up in interest.

One of the soldiers examined her credentials and nodded as General Asquith said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Hooper, but Dr. Toshiko Sato will be taking over."

"Um, excuse me, I could use some assistance here." Dr. Sato suddenly said, startling the other soldiers. "Perhaps Ms. Hooper would be willing to help?"

"I would be more than happy to assist." Molly said.

"Yes, all right." General Asquith nodded as he and his soldiers left. "Carry on."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Sato." Molly said, heading over to scrub up.

"You're quite welcome." Tosh said, adjusting her ear piece.

"…Whoo, that's a bloody hell of a relief." Dr. Owen Harper said on the other end of the line in Cardiff, and Tosh could swear she heard him tipping back a bottle of whiskey for a drink. "Now, let Ms. Hooper take the lead from now on, all right?"

"All right." Tosh said in a low voice and then looked up as Molly approached.

"Now then, Dr. Sato, um…so what are we dealing with here?" Molly asked, staring down at the body on the slab with curiosity overwhelming her. To examine an alien life form-Sherlock really would get a kick out of this, if only he hadn't gone missing.

"A swine-like form," Dr. Sato said, revealing the body.

"That's it? That's the alien who crash-landed…it doesn't seem right." Molly said, shaking her head and looking up at Dr. Sato. "How can that be possible?"

"Believe me, alien life forms can be of all shapes and sizes and some of them do look similar to species that developed on our own planet. Some of them might have even evolved from life-forms that can be found on our planet." Tosh said, meeting Molly's gaze. "It's spectacular once you think about it."

"Right then, have you begun any incisions?" Molly asked.

"Not yet. I was going to do that after a physical examination and X-rays." Tosh said, "Just to get a better look at and understanding of its anatomy. The X-rays are over there, you can see them for yourself."

"Right." Molly said, heading over to the X-ray display to examine them herself, her head still reeling a bit. "It looks almost normal from what I remember of biology and dissection classes." Molly said, checking them again. "It's almost identical to pig anatomy, except for the head." She frowned to herself. "Dr. Sato, I don't know anything about alien biology, but does any of this look artificial to you?"

"What do you mean?" Tosh asked, coming over to check the head X-ray as Owen cursed on the other end of the line, having spilled some whiskey on himself. "Um…I mean, it doesn't look normal, it's just—different." She winced. "I don't really know." She admitted. "I haven't really examined a body before." Owen was groaning now.

"Dr.—Toshiko Sato, do you mean to say that you're not a real doctor?" Molly asked, gaping at her.

"I'm just covering for someone who couldn't make it. He's here." Tosh said, tapping her ear piece and showing it to Molly, "Advising me. And my name is Tosh, or at least that's what I prefer. I'm the resident technology expert with my branch. I've seen and even dealt with aliens and alien artifacts before, but not like this."

"Bloody hell, why do you have to blab everything?" Owen groaned on the other end of the line, not really paying attention.

"He?" Molly asked, staring at Tosh, who slowly nodded. "Ah, I've got you. I've felt the same about another bloke."

"What did she say?" Owen asked, perplexed.

"Nothing." Tosh said, taking out the ear piece and turning it off. "I'm sorry for all of this, really I am, but can you please help me?" She asked Molly. "I can't afford to let him down."

"All right, I suppose I will." Molly said, smiling in a sad way. She knew the feeling well.


	11. Aliens in Parliament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gets his hands dirty with a new friend, Sherlock goes on a helicopter ride, and Molly's autopsy goes haywire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon changes in store

The junior secretary for the Ministry of Defense, Indra Ganesh, had just fended off Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North, from coming upstairs when he heard the harsh voice of the Iceman call, "Mr. Ganesh? Where is he?" Mr. Ganesh flinched and prayed that he would get through this trial alive as he turned to face Mycroft Holmes. "I have been waiting, quite patiently I must tell you, for an hour or more to see the prime minister. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"I agree with you there." Harriet Jones remarked quietly to herself. She didn't quite understand what was going on here or who this other man was, though she understood that he was self-important and important at the same time with the way he acted and the reaction he got.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know where he is." Mr. Ganesh said, startling Harriet Jones who had not expected to hear such a horrible thing.

"You lost the prime minister in the middle of an international, public crisis with aliens? How can you lose the prime minister?" Mycroft said.

"Surely there must be some way of getting in touch with him or a member of his entourage?" Harriet Jones asked, causing Mycroft and Mr. Ganesh to stare at her. "What about some kind of schedule or record of where he was supposed to have been or last seen? He can't have vanished without a trace."

"Very sensible and pragmatic." Mycroft muttered, half complimentary and half sarcastic.

"Thank you very much." Harriet Jones said, annoyed as she understood his tone at least.

"We've tried everything, ma'am, but he has vanished in the middle of being transported here." Mr. Ganesh said.

"Either this is the grossest negligence possible or something has gone horribly wrong here." Mycroft said. "It can't be a coincidence that this happened today. He must have been abducted or worse. Have you questioned the transportation staff thoroughly? What about the emergency protocols?"

"I know, sir, we are preparing for every exigency in this case." Mr. Ganesh said. "We have questioned everyone on the transportation staff thoroughly. No one has confessed or shown the slightest signs of deceit in their statements. Our best men are looking for him as we speak. We'll get to the bottom of it, I swear, we'll have him back soon."

"You better pray you do." Mycroft muttered, unnerving the other man and arousing Harriet Jones's curiosity. Who was this man to command such fear and respect? A member of MI6 perhaps or another "My brother has returned, by the way, with the Doctor in tow." Mycroft added. "Do you think his services might be required?"

"Why do we need a doctor and what does your brother have to do with anything?" Harriet Jones asked, but was ignored.

"The Doctor? As in UNIT's Doctor?" Indra Ganesh gaped at Mycroft, who slowly nodded. "Oh yes indeed, we are certainly going to need him. We are assembling a team of the country's top experts in extraterrestrial affairs as we speak to deal with the crisis. Please have him come as soon as possible. Until then, the emergency protocols are in place, we have airlifts scheduled for Cabinet members, and Joseph Green has been called upon to take up the prime minister's duties until he is relieved. Now, if you will excuse me, here comes Mr. Green." Mr. Ganesh went off to deal with the acting prime minister as Harriet Jones and Mycroft Holmes stepped off to the side.

"Bit short-sighted of them not to have some member of the cabinet close at hand so that they don't have to resort to calling in Joseph Green, is it not?" Harriet asked, trying to turn it into a joke.

"Yes, exactly what I thought." He turned to face her and managed to smile. "Mycroft Holmes, the Iceman as some people call me. And you are Harriet Jones, MP of Flydale North? Yes, I heard."

"Iceman? That sounds fascinating." Harriet Jones said, shaking hands with him. "You're the type of person we need upstairs, I think."

"My job is too important to risk for this level of visibility, but thank you." Mycroft muttered.

"Sorry if I was talking too loudly earlier. I've gotten used to shouting, I'm afraid, to be heard in Parliament and nobody knows you here if you're a back-bencher like me. People used to recognize me back home on occasion. I had gotten quite a following with my cottage hospital push to add on to centers of excellence."

"It's no trouble at all and your cottage hospital idea does sound rather nice." Mycroft managed to say, almost choking on his words, but he had to get them out when he needed some kind of scapegoat and excuse, vague though it was, to find his way upstairs. "Perhaps I can help you find a way to get upstairs with me and submit your proposal."

"All right, I'll take it." Harriet Jones nodded and the pair of them set off together, sneaking through secret passageways and past security into the cabinet room. "This is amazing." Harriet Jones said, glancing about.

"You learn a few secrets with a life like mine." Mycroft glanced around and frowned at the briefcase left on the table. "That shouldn't be there. Joseph Green is either more careless than I thought or he's not even bothering with the emergency protocols."

"That's a bad sign. Can I have a look at them?" Harriet Jones asked, approaching the briefcase.

Mycroft frowned, studying Ms. Jones intently for a moment in judgment of her character before he nodded. "Go ahead. At least someone here aside from myself and Mr. Ganesh should be aware of the emergency protocols."

"Thank you." Harriet Jones said, sitting down and opening the briefcase to stare in awe at the documents before she began to peruse them.

"Just be aware that as a representative member of Parliament, you have an active interest on behalf of the country to see that they are carried through to the best of your ability." Mycroft said as he began to search for any clues, documentation that might be related to the prime minister's disappearance, leaving her alone with the emergency protocols. "Joseph Green certainly doesn't seem to be the type of person who is going to follow through here, but I have some faith in you."

"I will try my best, sir, to reward that faith in me." She murmured as she continued to read and memorize them.

"See that you do. Hmm, this detective work should really have gone to my brother." Mycroft murmured. "I should have gotten ahold of him and the Doctor as soon as they arrived back here. But I was so concerned with clearing up the Rose Tyler matter that it distracted me from realizing that if they were here, especially the Doctor, then surely some trouble must follow them."

"Are they detectives, your brother and this Doctor? Or are they both alien experts, as Mr. Ganesh said?" Harriet asked.

"You might say they are both." Mycroft said.

"Fascinating stuff." Harriet Jones added.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had grown tired of sitting on his backside watching telly, with a whole herd of humans surrounding him, laughing and cheering about the alien invasion. This wasn't his normal style or method of finding things out, trying to pick up any useful information from the scant details they were offering him and anyone else watching. He wanted to get out and explore, get a fuller picture of what was going on here and investigate things up close. For that, he needed to get over there right now.

He should have left before with Sherlock and John before any of this happened and it all blew up in his face, but he was so worried about Rose and her mum that he hadn't thought anything could go wrong or that he might be needed elsewhere. That wasn't usual or natural of him to be so concerned with domestic affairs, but Rose was important to him, the first person he had cared about in a while, and so he had decided to be nice to her and Sherlock and John as well.

He thought they all deserved a break, a chance to relax, rest, and recuperate on their own with the shock and upset of finding out that they had inadvertently been gone for a month. Plus, he felt like the boys needed some breathing space, having discovered that they were in love with each other, they might want their privacy. But now he felt like he had been deserted and abandoned, forced to fend for himself in no-man's land with no choice but to go.

Something was wrong here, he knew, it was all just too perfect and odd for him. Something definitely felt off and he had to find out what they were dealing with here. He started to leave, hoping to get away without Rose noticing because he felt like it would be better if he was by himself in these initial steps of investigating this mysterious alien.

He didn't know anything about the situation and it might be dangerous for Rose, more so than it had been before. He didn't want to risk losing her, not now, and she had been in danger more than enough already. Perhaps it might be safer for her to stay here at home. And part of him wanted to get away from noisy, nosy humans for a while when he had suffered through hours of mindless, tedious news coverage and partying.

However, having been informed by Mickey that the Doctor was ducking out, Rose caught him and he made a great speech about humanity being bits of clay and gave Rose her own TARDIS key to distract her from the fact that he was going. His heart broke a little bit, betraying Rose like this, but he had to go and be on his own when—suddenly, they felt a great blast of wind and heard a faint whirring noise growing louder, like a storm. They both looked up and gaped at the helicopter coming down with a rope ladder being dropped into the courtyard below.

"Hello, Doctor, Rose. Mycroft wants you." They heard Sherlock's voice call out over the sound of the blades.

The Doctor laughed. "Looks like the cavalry's arrived. Come on!" The Doctor and Rose rushed down to grab hold of the rope ladder and climb abroad the helicopter, while Mickey, Jackie, and a bunch of other people came out to gape at the sight.

"Rose! Rose! Where are you going? Come back here!" Jackie called to her.

"She's gone swamming off again, off on another adventure." Mickey sighed and shook his head.

For a moment, he envied her, yet he wasn't certain if he could handle gallivanting off like that, probably on some kind of dangerous mission with the Doctor and Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes involved. He didn't know how that Dr. John Watson could stand it either, unless…Mickey frowned to himself and shook his head, though now he wondered if Sherlock and John were involved with each other. It would be odd, though not unbelievable. He was starting to believe in a lot of different things these days.

"I don't like this one bit." Jackie murmured. "Is this from Sherlock's brother, Mycroft Holmes or whatever his name is?"

"You've got that right. He's way up in the British government hierarchy, probably below the prime minister himself, but very hush-hush, top secret." Mickey told Jackie, agape at him. "He tried to recruit me when he stole back his brother's laptop, the one with all the top secret files on the alien Doctor. I told you the truth, Jackie, last month, but you wouldn't listen to me."

"I suppose not. Oh my god, that Doctor is an alien? Rose is with an alien?" Jackie whispered, alarmed.

"Sorry about picking you guys up like this without any notice." John managed to say as he and Sherlock greeted the Doctor and Rose, with Anthea briefly glancing at the two of them before returning to her phone. "We didn't have any way of contacting you."

"Oh, that reminds me! Here, give me your phones." The Doctor said, snapping his fingers. Sherlock and John shrugged and handed the devices over as the Doctor got out his sonic screwdriver and zapped their phones. "There, instant upgrade, universal roaming with contacts for the TARDIS and Rose's phone as well. Now we don't have to lose touch with each other again."

"Brilliant." Sherlock said, grinning as he examined his device. "Sheer brilliance."

"Wait! Wait for me!" Lestrade cried, huffing as he raced across the estate to the helicopter with Mickey and a bunch of other people laughing as they watched the scene, though Jackie couldn't enjoy it. It was the most embarrassing thing the detective inspector had ever experienced. He would make John and Sherlock or Mycroft or whoever was responsible for this shenanigan pay dearly. Lestrade climbed abroad, collapsing onto the floor of the craft just before they left.

"Are you okay?" John asked, checking on the DI.

"Aside from a minor heart attack, yes. Thanks for nothing." Lestrade gasped. "You all could have at least come pick me up without having me run all this way."

"This was the most efficient way to pick you all up without wasting fuel on side trips." Anthea commented.

"I should have known you were to blame." Lestrade muttered, glaring at her. Sometimes he wondered if Mycroft's assistant had it in for him, perhaps because they both fancied the same person. "And what are these two doing here?" He pointed at Rose and the Doctor.

"Technically they, or at least the Doctor, are the reason why my brother allowed me to have this helicopter transport us, so be grateful for that much at least and show some respect." Sherlock said.

"I'm grateful." Lestrade muttered. "Though I wish that wasn't the only reason why." He earned an odd glance from everybody who didn't understand while Anthea smirked.

"Thanks for getting us out of there." The Doctor told Sherlock and John. "I thought I would regenerate out of boredom."

"No problem at all." Sherlock said, acting magnanimous as John stifled a laugh.

Rose lightly punched the Doctor, not certain what he was talking about, though. "It wasn't all bad. You have to admit that at least my mum made you feel welcome after a little while."

"She tolerated me, that's all." The Doctor said dismissively and then groaned. "I can't believe I'm getting involved in a domestic dispute."

John laughed. "It'll be okay, Doctor, you'll make it through."

"First stop, St. Barts." Sherlock said. "My associate Dr. Molly Hooper is performing the alien autopsy. I can get us straight in."

"We can get you straight in. I still hold some sway with New Scotland Yard, after all." Lestrade said, not wanting to be left out, even though he didn't quite know who this Doctor bloke was. But if he was important to Mycroft and knew something about this alien menace, then Lestrade would not disappoint.

"Of course." Sherlock scoffed. They soon landed at St. Barts and the large group headed downstairs, only to be confronted by a group of UNIT soldiers.

Sherlock, Lestrade, Anthea, the Doctor and even John got involved in a shouting match as they presented various credentials, official orders, and tried to talk on top of each other, confusing the soldiers for a moment as Rose stood to the side, not wanting to be a bother. Then they all heard a couple of screams, the Doctor shouted something about defense plan Delta, and they were all running down the hospital corridors to the morgue, John, Sherlock, and Lestrade in particular concerned about something being wrong with Molly.

Lestrade and Anthea told the soldiers to stay back with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Rose slipping into the morgue. Molly and another woman, whose head was bleeding and appeared to be dazed, were crouched in a corner by the wall.

"Sherlock? John? Thank god you're back." Molly asked, looking up at them. "Who are your friends?"

"They're here to help. Hello, Molly, doctor, what seems to be the trouble?" John asked.

"It's alive." Molly sighed, alerting the others who started to peer about. "This is Tosh Sato. She's not a real doctor, just covering for someone, and she didn't make a proper examination."

"I thought it would be easy enough." Tosh whispered.

"Idiot." Sherlock muttered. "And they're idiots for letting you in here."

"Don't be so rude." Rose said, punching Sherlock.

"Ow! You really do hit hard." Sherlock muttered, rubbing himself.

"As soon as we cut into it, the creature woke up. It panicked and lashed out, striking Tosh before it got away, but it's still in here." Molly said. "Somewhere in here."

"Hold on." The Doctor said, nodding towards the other edge of the room. "I think it's there. You three," He pointed to Sherlock, John, and Rose, "Spread out, keep the exit and these two covered, I'm going to try talking to it and see if I can calm it down. Maybe we can get it out of here safely."

The Doctor proceeded and the other three followed directions, fanning out to keep everything covered as they watched and heard the Doctor talking to something. Suddenly, it darted out, and he cried, "Grab it, quick!"

Sherlock, John, and Rose launched at it and managed to grab on and not let the creature get outside of the room. It struggled against them, squealing and snorting, and as the light flashed on, they realized what they were holding, gaping at it.

"It's a pig!" Rose cried.

"It's not an alien, is it, Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"No, it's not. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that. It's just your average Earth pig, enhanced and made to look alien." The Doctor said, turning to Molly and Tosh. "If you have any, I need to see your X-rays. I want to see exactly what they've done to him."

"Hold your fire! Stand down! At ease!" Lestrade and Anthea were shouting at the soldiers outside in the corridor, blocking them when it seemed like they were ready to storm in and start firing. The UNIT soldiers uneasily backed off, lowering their weapons.

"The situation is under control. We've got it." John shouted outside. "Thank you, gentlemen, we can take it from here."

The soldiers muttered amongst each other, but they slowly backed off and returned to their posts on sentry duty again. Lestrade and Anthea entered the morgue, staring in astonishment at the 'alien' creature, which was being caressed and calmed down by Rose and Tosh, who were slightly disgusted and wished they hadn't been saddled with this duty. Molly and John handled the X-rays, showing them to the Doctor and Sherlock.

"Unbelievable. I can't believe they've done this." The Doctor said, examining the minute detail of the brain scan. "They seem to have shifted and enhanced some parts of the brain, but not all of them. Most of them are what you might call physical and biological enhancements to make the pig more humanoid and therefore more alien to humans."

"So encountering the alien pig, people treat it as such and don't think otherwise." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head as he examined the charts and concentrated his thoughts. "Unbelievable is right."

"It's not a real alien?" Lestrade gasped, gaping at the creature. "But the spaceship is alien!"

"The spaceship is alien all right." The Doctor said. "Or at least not something that can be found on 21st century Earth."

"Could the pig have piloted the craft?" Anthea asked, curious.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had retreated into his mind palace, aware of what was going on around him and absorbing everything people were saying. However, most of his focus and concentration was on collecting, assembling, rearranging, and trying to make sense out of the data presented to him. John noticed what was going on with Sherlock, but left him alone as he worked best when completely focused.

"No, intelligence levels haven't increased significantly." The Doctor added. "It's not advanced enough to have piloted the spaceship all by itself. Someone else was controlling the ship."

"Was the government involved in this?" Rose asked. "Or that Torchwood whatever that had files on the Doctor, maybe even UNIT? Don't they have access to real live alien spaceships that crash landed here?"

"It wasn't Torchwood." Tosh said, gazing up at her and the others. "I should know. They weren't involved in this, they were caught unaware. They believe that this is real."

"Good to know." John said, intrigued as he wondered who Tosh was and her involvement with Torchwood. Sherlock flinched at the sound of John's voice, but remained in his trance.

"And this certainly was not government involvement." Anthea said. "I know that as well. Mycroft has his hands in everything, and he wasn't involved here. Certainly no other governments were involved as well."

"Not even Mycroft, Sherlock, or any other 21st century human has the technology to create these brain enhancements." The Doctor said, turning back to the others. "The technology involved here is alien. Real aliens created this fake alien."

"How do you know that?" Lestrade asked. "How are you such an alien expert and know so much about their technology?"

"Because I am an alien, not to mention a time traveler. My expertise here is second to none." The Doctor said, stunning a few people here. "That's why Mycroft needs me."

"Why would these aliens go to all of this trouble of creating a fake alien crashing a real alien spaceship, their spaceship?" John asked, disrupting Sherlock's thoughts. "It doesn't make any sense."

"A decoy to cover up their invasion by making it public." Sherlock whispered, his eyes opening as he came out of his mind palace. "And the spaceship didn't crash, not exactly. They controlled a smooth landing into the Thames."

"Welcome back, Sherlock Holmes." The Doctor said, causing John to smile. Even the Doctor was aware of Sherlock's mind palace now.

"They parked their spaceship in the river?" Molly asked.

"Precisely, right where they needed it to be." Sherlock said and paused. "They're here in London, right by the river to gain easy access to their spaceship. Why else would it land here?"

The others gaped at Sherlock as the news dawned on them. "Parliament is right by the river, close to where the spaceship landed with the clock tower getting swiped at." The Doctor remarked, earning a few more startled, horrified looks from the others. "And I've been watching the news all day long, of all the days. The prime minister has gone missing. The Cabinet members aren't here. There are only a few Parliament members currently in control of the government. London and the British government itself is vulnerable. The perfect target, especially if the aliens are already here, installed in position, maybe in Parliament itself."

"You're joking." Rose said, shaking her head. "The aliens have got control of the British government? Is that possible?"

Anthea frowned. "Protocols would be in place to prevent unlawful usurpation of power, but with a panic and fear spreading throughout the country and the rest of the world, who knows what could happen? What they could do with such power?"

"We've got to stop them." Lestrade suddenly said, getting serious. "If the aliens are there and they've gotten control of the government, we've got to stop them before they do any harm."

"And my brother is there." Sherlock said, getting out his mobile. "Maybe he can help us if he hasn't been helping the aliens or is an alien himself." He laughed harshly, but the others hushed as they wondered if it could be true.

At that moment, Mycroft Holmes and Harriet Jones had retreated to the Parliament cabinet room closet, hiding as General Asquith raged at Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and Charles Oliver until the trio started farting and unzipping. Two pairs of eyes widened at the sight of the huge aliens that emerged from the rotund human skins, like flabby suits, and then they launched themselves at General Asquith.

Mycroft and Harriet winced as they smoothly sliced off the general's skin and then devoured his body. When they were done, they suited up again, only this time, the alien that had been inside Charles Oliver switched into wearing General Asquith, struggling to get into the skin suit for the first time and farting all the while. The human pair flinched as Charles Oliver's skin was thrown into the closet on top of them, but they didn't make a sound as the trio left the cabinet.

Finally, Mycroft and Harriet Jones emerged, gasping as they felt wretched, like they might retch over everything. "Is this what happened to the prime minister?" Harriet Jones asked.

"I'm afraid it's possible. We might-" Mycroft shook his head as he felt his mobile vibrating, glad that he had not set it to ring. He checked who it was and answered, "What have you found out?"

"We are under the impression-" Sherlock checked himself as he heard the harried tone in Mycroft's voice and found himself unusually concerned. "Is something the matter? What happened?"

"Aliens are in Downing Street, right at the top." Mycroft said, stiff. "Joseph Green is not human anymore. He is an alien wearing Green's skin like a set of clothing. The same is true of Margaret Blaine, one of MI5's top advisors and now General Asquith of UNIT. I don't know who else."

"I see. We figured something like that with the spaceship landed in the river close by. Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and General Asquith. Got it. We'll be there soon." Sherlock said, voices buzzing on Sherlock's end.

"It's not safe, you know." Mycroft said, unreasonably worried and beside himself. "You'll be killed, you and the Doctor and anyone else who get in here. It's a trap, I think. The alien experts are meeting downstairs with the aliens presiding."

"I think we can handle it. Take care of yourself, and good bye." Sherlock said, hanging up his mobile phone and inhaling deeply before he faced the others. "Mycroft is scared. I never thought-" He laughed to himself while the others who knew Mycroft exchanged worried glances.

"Don't worry, Sherlock." John said, approaching and hugging him. "We'll get Mycroft out of there." Sherlock hugged him tightly in turn, feeling unbalanced by the sensation of his older brother being in serious trouble.

"It's a trap. They're having a meeting of alien experts, Mycroft said." Sherlock said, turning to the Doctor and the others.

"And they're walking right into it, helpless." The Doctor slowly nodded. "UNIT, Torchwood, and whoever else…all right, then, let's go. Who's more of an expert on aliens here than I am?" He asked, turning to Anthea. "You're going to arrange a ride for all of us, right?"

"Affirmative." Anthea said and made the call, despite her own fears about her boss being in danger.

"You can't go, Rose." The Doctor said.

"Same goes for you, John." Sherlock added. Both Rose and John protested vehemently, loudly and threatening enough, however, that both Sherlock and the Doctor reluctantly agreed to let them go, eying each other with a sigh. They didn't want the people they loved getting hurt.

"What is going to happen to it?" Molly asked, indicating the pig.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. "Well, I will try to save it, take it someplace where it can live peacefully without being experimented upon, but I'm worried about its ability to function, its quality of life. I don't know how sustainable these enhancements are, if he—and it's a male—can live in such a manner. Maybe he'll live for years more or days, depends on the adjustments he can make."

Tosh, petting the pig, said, "But you can't take care of it right now, not when it sounds like you and the others are going to storm Parliament."

"You're right about that." The Doctor remarked, glancing over at Rose and the others. He wondered if they would make it out of this thing alive.

"Can I take care of him, just for a little while?" Tosh asked. "I promise to take good care of him, and I won't let anything happen to him."

"I'll help, if that's all right with you." Molly said. Tosh slowly nodded.

"All right, do your best." The Doctor nodded, glad at least that Tosh and Molly would stay behind, two less people to worry about. "Maybe try feeding him a bit, see what he likes. I'll be back for him soon, hopefully in a few hours, though it depends." He didn't want to worry them too much.

"We'll call Molly when we come pick him up." John said, smiling at the two women as he shook their hands. "Thank you for helping out. Sorry to leave you two like this, but we'll be back. Take care of yourselves, beware of possible evil aliens. Good-bye!" He and the others left, ready to take on aliens in Parliament as Sherlock wrapped his arm around John, glad at least that his doctor could remain so upbeat. A disguise at least to hide how terrified they were.


	12. Yeti in the Loo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and his friends infiltrate Parliament. Operation: Yeti in the Loo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are my original chapter notes from Fanfiction.net:
> 
> Author's Note: It's less than a week away now! Yay! And before we get to that day of the Twelfth Doctor's first adventure airing on television, here is the Aliens of London conclusion for Sherlock, John, and the Doctor, although it's been changed a little bit. Enjoy.
> 
> Now I'm posting it on here just before Capaldi's second series starts.

Sherlock adjusted his collar, his steely eyes ablaze as he concentrated on his mind palace and attempted to organize all of his thoughts on the alien invasion of Downing Street. He analyzed the data he did know about recent events, which was sorely limited and partly outdated due to his one-month absence here. He did not have the time he needed to acquaint himself with all of the necessary details and information, but he did try his best to determine what did and did not fit the pattern of the alien incursion that had breached the top level of government.

They would reach Downing Street soon, and he had to mentally prepare for the potential confrontation. He was willing to bet those aliens would be prepared to meet any resistance with brute force, cunning, and even sharp teeth and claws from his brother's description of them. By their very nature, they seemed equipped to deal with any threats to their plans and their deceptive means of disguise was a virtual guarantee they could slip into any avenue of access, provided they found the right match for their bulk.

Right now his brother's life was at risk, those aliens could find him out, and maybe John's life would be endangered as well since the man might risk himself trying to protect them. He wished John had stayed behind for his own safety, but the man was stubborn and wanted to be there to help, ridiculous and irrational though it might have been. Possibly the fate of Britain if not the planet would be hanging in the balance as well, as there had to be some plot with a goal in mind for these aliens to have gone through these elaborate maneuvers and shenanigans to get into prime position.

Sherlock did not really count his own life as one of those that might be endangered here, because he was fully prepared to risk it in order to prevent this alien plot from succeeding. He wanted to make sure that his mental faculties were in top form, because failing and missing something important at such a crucial juncture could be devastating to him and everyone else. He was not willing to face failure at this point.

The Doctor would be of great help to him, or vice versa depending on who would be handling the alien menace, but he could not totally rely on the Doctor to be on hand and deal with every emergency. He would have to be there as well, and maybe everyone else at this point. Maybe John's help would be necessary, though Sherlock hated the thought of him risking his life when he valued it so much above his own now.

John flexed and stretched himself as much as he was able to in the cramped car with six people in the back. He had a feeling that this was going to be a tough case that could take a physical toll on him and he wasn't as young as he used to be. He needed to get into better physical shape, especially if they were going to stay with the Doctor for the long haul.

With just a few adventures under his belt, he had started to learn the importance of keeping up with everybody, with all of the activity they went through. He wondered if the TARDIS had a gym somewhere. It was bound to, he figured at some point the Doctor or someone would have wanted to exercise on there, though he had not had much chance of exploring the spaceship. He hoped that he would get that chance, but it depended on whether or not he and the others survived, a grim thought he didn't want to dwell on.

He noticed how much Sherlock was concentrating, in his mind palace again, so John didn't bother him right now. He figured that Sherlock was in 'hog heaven', apt though crude the term might be, enjoying himself or at least thoroughly intrigued and invested in the case. Mycroft was in danger, of course, probably they all would be soon, but John figured that Sherlock could handle this problem, especially with the Doctor around to help. There was no need to worry too much, just remain concerned enough to stay focused on the task at hand. They could handle it together.

The Doctor had gotten out his sonic screwdriver, examining the device to make sure that it was in tip-top shape. Who knows when he might need it? The boys were limbering up, a good sign that they were taking things seriously. He smiled at Rose to reassure her and she smiled back, despite her own fear and anxiety. It was one thing to walk into a trap, ignorant of what was going on, but to actually go in with full knowledge of what might be waiting for them there was mind-numbingly scary. She didn't know if she could handle it.

Lestrade was making a call to inform Donovan that New Scotland Yard should be on full alert with suspect activity inside Downing Street itself. However, he wouldn't tell her just what was going on there when it was a bit unbelievable, even for him after what he had just seen with the fake alien.

"Get the news out, though discretely, that there is something wrong." He paused now and again as Donovan spoke. "The prime minister is missing, did you know that? It's not something they've advertising, but the news is out there. A coup has taken place and an unstable faction has taken over—yes, I know it doesn't sound right, it sounds crazy, but believe me, it's true. Downing Street has been compromised and we need to organize ourselves to face that trouble. Good-bye." Lestrade hung up, sighing. "She doesn't believe me. No one will."

"It's not going to be easy to convince people." Anthea remarked, tapping on her mobile. "Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North, will be meeting you all inside Downing Street—here's a picture," She showed them on her mobile display. "Mycroft will stay upstairs, out of the way."

"You're not coming with us?" Rose asked.

"I have to stay on top of Mycroft's affairs and alert all other governments to beware any high commands from Downing Street." Anthea said. "They must know, from a source they can trust, that they cannot trust Joseph Green and his alien coterie. Mycroft's name and influence has some pull that can alienate Downing Street from the rest of the world."

"Sounds good to me, one less thing to worry about." The Doctor said.

"Sensible and cowardly of him, just what I expect from my brother." Sherlock muttered, examining the picture of Harriet Jones as Lestrade glared at him, wanting to defend Mycroft's decision. "Interesting woman." Sherlock said of her. "Fairly ordinary in manner, insecure and feeling out of place, as she probably never expected she would become so heavily involved in politics. It was just an interest she developed and she worked at it to secure a place, though a miniscule one."

"Harriet Jones, why does that name sound familiar?" The Doctor asked himself, though he listened intently to Sherlock Holmes's analysis, like everyone else.

"She does have an inner drive and ambition that brought her to Parliament, campaigning for a cause, probably dear to her heart, yet she never expected she would succeed." Sherlock said. "She's not used to being noticed or succeeding. She always has to stand up and assert herself, despite her anxiety. Currently divorced, no children, an unhappy marriage that she forced her way out of, good for her. She must be very brave to take on such a risk, coming downstairs out of their hiding place to greet us. Fascinating."

"He's correct in his analysis of her." Anthea said, having checked her file.

"Didn't expect otherwise." John smiled at his lover.

"We still have to try to convince people." Rose said, turning to Anthea. "We don't have much in the way of proof, but if we just get people to doubt what's going on, maybe they won't blindly accept it."

"She's right." The Doctor said, nodding. "Rose has got it right. Everyone, listen to me. When we get in there, if you meet any of those alien experts, tell them 'Yeti in the loo'. It's a code for alien infiltrators, and it might put them on alert."

"Yeti in the loo? Unbelievable," Lestrade shook his head, but he decided to at least give it a go since it might help. He would probably feel ridiculous, though, despite the situation.

"Here are the photos of the known aliens, according to Mycroft." Anthea said, showing them political photos of the people the aliens impersonated. "Memorize them well, they will be there and you might encounter them. Be cautious and do not reveal your knowledge of their true identities, otherwise you might blow your cover."

Almost everyone was prepared for such an eventuality through military, police, and investigative training, although Rose had to stiffen herself up a bit for the possibility. Aside from Cassandra, she had never truly confronted anyone who was a killer.

"Wasn't there something about Yeti in the Underground back in the 60s?" John asked as Sherlock nodded.

"We must be cautious here." Sherlock added, trying to imply the danger inherent in the situation. "They've been organizing things for a while now to get into prime position. They must have a great understanding of British politics and policy, far more than the average person, to know whom to impersonate that would get them into Downing Street."

"In plus sizes." Rose added, trying to get a laugh.

"The timing had to be right to strand necessary members of the cabinet outside the city, and they had to get access to the prime minister at the same time for their plan to work, an ingenious move on their part." Sherlock continued. "Then there was the matter of the spaceship, which they must have programmed to land in such a spectacular manner, and the pig—a joke, a hoax, which shows a deviant sense of humor in how they mutilated and manipulated such an animal, almost as an insult against humans. They won't be kind and merciful."

"Got it." John said, nodding to reassure his lover. "We'll be careful."

"Terrible sense of humor, though." Rose remarked, nodding and grinning. "Let's get them with their trousers down and pants showing." The others grimly chuckled.

They had arrived at 10 Downing Street, and piled out of the car, with the exception of Anthea, who wished them all good luck as Lestrade and some of the others nodded at her, John giving her a short smile and wave. Reporters were outside and the Doctor greeted them with big smiles and a wave, as did John in his discreet fashion with Rose laughing a little bit. But Sherlock and Lestrade basically kept their heads down, not wanting to talk to anyone. Sherlock wished that he could have gotten himself a hat to hide under.

Some reporters recognized Lestrade, and questioned him as to New Scotland Yard's methods in silencing riots and their involvement in this alien matter, whether there would be an investigation into the prime minister's noted absence. But Lestrade gave them no comment as he and the others entered Downing Street, already on full alert as they observed aliens in disguise surrounding them and searched for any sign of Harriet Jones.

Mickey and Jackie were watching the news coverage in Jackie's flat, having spent some time talking about the alien Doctor and Rose's involvement with him and Sherlock, when they caught the live footage. "Rose and the others are at Downing Street?" Mickey gaped at the screen. "Oh man, I wish I had gone with them."

"I've got to call everybody." Jackie said, getting up to spread the news when she heard a knock on the door. She answered to find a police officer outside.

"Might I come in and have a word with you, Ms. Tyler?" The police officer said, farting. "Oh, pardon me. I got an alert about an alien expert in the area, the Doctor. Is he here?"

"You missed him." Jackie Tyler said. "Left with my daughter and Sherlock Holmes and some Detective Inspector Lestrade ages ago. Now go away."

However, the police officer thrust his foot in the doorway when Jackie tried to close it. "I'm afraid I must insist." He added, forcing his way in. Mickey stood up in the living room, nervous as he retreated backwards and hid inside Rose's bedroom, watching the situation unfold and wondering what was happening here.

"You can't come in here." Jackie said, feeling nervous. Meanwhile, a similar situation was developing on the other side of the city with another officer being sent to Sherlock's flat, another looking for Mycroft Holmes, who had not been since he presumably left Downing Street, and a third approached Sergeant Donovan.

As Sherlock and the others arrived, security questioned and searched them with Indra Ganesh and other officials standing by to receive and greet the alien experts. As soon as the Doctor and Sherlock Holmes identified themselves, Indra Ganesh smiled and approached them, offering them special access status badges. Sherlock held his badge between thumb and forefinger like an offensive thing, examining it closely.

"This thing looks odd. It seems thicker than usual." Sherlock remarked.

"Special coating." Indra Ganesh shrugged, moving on.

"It's just a badge, Sherlock, put it on or they'll kick us out of here." John murmured, attaching his and smiling at some of the aliens while feeling sick to his stomach.

The Doctor took his badge off to examine it. "Hey, you know, you're right." The Doctor said, sweeping it over with his sonic screwdriver, the others grouped around to hide the alien device. His face paled at the results. "Uh-oh. There's a special circuit in these badges that can pack quite a wallop, enough voltage to kill a human."

The others froze, fearing the worst. "All of them?" Rose shuddered, carefully peeling off her badge like a grenade. The Doctor quickly scanned hers and the others in quick succession, checking the results.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Just myself and Sherlock. We got the special access badges as alien experts. Mycroft must have indicated Sherlock was one."

"Thank you very much, Mycroft." Sherlock muttered, glancing around for a way of disposing his badge without the aliens seeing.

"He didn't know this would happen." John said. "And it's because of him that we're aware of the extent of the situation."

"I guessed at some of it." Sherlock indignantly said.

"Of course you did, I didn't mean to belittle that." John said.

"The rest of you just got standard badges. You're fine, only Sherlock and me would have gotten shocked." The Doctor grinned.

"Better get rid of it then and warn the experts." Sherlock remarked, discreetly tossing his into a garbage can.

"You're right about that." The Doctor, however, attached his badge back on.

"Aren't you going to get rid of it?" Lestrade asked.

"You forget, I'm not human." The Doctor said, standing stiffly at attention. "It won't kill me."

"But won't it hurt?" Rose asked, staring up at him mournfully.

"It will hurt me, yeah, but I'll be fine." The Doctor managed to weakly smile. "Might come in handy to have something so powerful on me, though."

"A weapon." Sherlock said, eying the Time Lord, intrigued, skeptical, and guarded about the Time Lord's behavior.

The Doctor always seemed willing to martyr, sacrifice, and torture himself, all for the sake of what he had done in the past. But he still couldn't let go of the warrior mentality, prepared to fight when necessary with whatever was at hand to defend people. Sherlock recognized this for he had seen it before, especially with himself and John.

He hoped that the Doctor wouldn't needlessly sacrifice himself for a vain cause or misuse his power in a mistaken attempt to rectify the situation and attack the enemy. Sometimes it seemed to Sherlock that the Doctor so easily misjudged himself, despite his wide range of knowledge and acute mental skills, that it was a wonder he had ever managed to survive the numerous escapades and wars he had been through, or that his friends had survived along with him.

Of course, things had been different before the Time War. The Doctor must have been more capable of handling himself then before things fell apart around him and he changed so drastically, damaged by the war. But still, Sherlock was worried about the Doctor's survival capabilities now and how that would affect him and the others as well. If the Doctor could not handle himself, if he took a misstep or did something wrong, then that would be it. Earth and the universe, all of time and space, might be doomed. The Doctor truly did need help.

"You could call it that." The Doctor shifted, not wanting to talk about it. "Oh, look, Harriet Jones." The others turned around and spotted the woman approaching them. "Better get out of here with her, check up on Mycroft upstairs, and maybe find a way out of this situation." The Doctor added.

"Aren't you coming with us, Doctor?" Rose asked, concerned.

"I'll join you all later. I've still got to warn the others. Good luck." The Doctor said, smiling as he wandered off, not looking back at them.

"Be careful." Sherlock said. He and the others hesitated, wanting to help the Doctor, but eventually they went off with Harriet Jones. The Doctor didn't want their help, despite their good intentions. Humanity was probably doomed.

Harriet Jones introduced herself. "Yes, we know who you are, where's my brother?" Sherlock brusquely asked, angry about the entire situation when his instincts told him to go back, but for the sake of the others, he was willing to go upstairs.

"You must be Sherlock." Harriet managed to say, nodding. "He's upstairs this way." They followed her to the cabinet room.

"Brother, so good to see you. I wish it were under more pleasant, better circumstances." Mycroft said, nodding as he greeted the others. "And this must be Rose Tyler. Glad to make your acquaintance." He managed to smile.

"Likewise." Rose managed to say, creeped out by this strange fellow and unable to believe he was related to Sherlock, although there was a hint of something brilliantly wild in their eyes that might show their familial, fraternal relationship.

"All right, now is there any way we can get you out of here so that the Doctor and the rest of us can leave safely?" Sherlock asked Mycroft. "Anthea and Sergeant Donovan are helping to spread the news that Downing Street is compromised and should be isolated. The aliens won't have any more power here."

"I'm afraid to say that's unlikely so long as the aliens do exist." Mycroft said. "They will find a way to gain strength again. You've seen how readily they can disguise themselves."

"They still have to compromise with the bulk of the person." John remarked.

"While that may be true, it's still a potential liability." Mycroft said. "What's to stop them from leaving here and seeking other powerful bodies to inhabit? Not to mention the fact that while Downing Street might be isolated and cut off from the rest of the world, there are still powerful resources that they might be able to access and use against Britain and the rest of the world. You can't completely cut off their control."

Harriet Jones nodded and said, "Downing Street is pretty much impregnable as well in certain areas. According to the emergency protocols, which give detailed information as to the extent of the emergency powers held by Britain and Downing Street in a state of emergency, this is the government. No Parliamentary acts or resolutions are required, no other civil, governmental, or military powers can intervene, and of course the royal family are useless. They control everything here at this point and can act as they see fit. Hardly anything in this country would be able to stop them."

"Useless, pointless, utterly insane." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head.

"And we can't even countermand that authority? Go to another source? Why can't you take over, Mycroft?" John asked.

"That would be even worse!" Sherlock shouted as Lestrade frowned at him.

Mycroft smirked. "Much as I would like to, I cannot do that and compromise my own job and identity, if there is even a chance that we would make it out of here alive and whole. My job is too important to risk even for the sake of Downing Street."

"So we have to stop them, destroy them, right?" Rose asked.

"That may be the only way." Mycroft said.

The Doctor approached some UNIT officials, smiling as he whispered, ""Yeti in the loo here in Downing Street."

"I beg your pardon, but are you implying that there are hostile aliens here?" A UNIT official asked in a hiss.

"Yes, that's right." The Doctor continued smiling as he spoke in a low whisper. "Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and General Asquith are really aliens in disguise. They're not Zygons, though. Zygons aren't green and they don't wear body suits of the people they kill and eat." He snatched an hor d'ouevre off of a tray to eat as the others gaped at him.

"How do you know about Zygons?" Another UNIT official asked.

"I dealt with some up in Scotland back in the 70s, or was it the 80s? My mate Dr. Harry Sullivan was kidnapped and a Zygon changed itself to look like him for a bit." The Doctor said "Not to mention that whole Loch Ness monster mess here."

"Doctor, is that you?" The first official asked as the others stared at him wide-eyed in wonder.

"It's me and you better believe it." The Doctor said. "My suggestion would be to run like hell from here, although that might look suspicious. Instead, filing out in a nice, orderly fashion would help. Oh, and your special access badges have a circuit that will shock and kill you. So better get rid of the badges to be on the safe side, don't know about the range on them."

The UNIT officials murmured amongst each other, but quietly disposed of their badges and marched out of Downing Street, causing uproar amongst the paparazzi outside. Other alien experts followed suit, disturbed and puzzled by the whole affair, but they figured if UNIT was going, so would they.

"What are you doing? Where are you all going? Come back here, we need you!" Indra Ganesh cried, following after them, but when no one listened to him, he turned around and focused on the Doctor who remained behind. "You! What have you done? What did you say to them?"

"I told them the truth and if you were smart, you would listen to me, too." The Doctor said, facing the man. "Run, get out of here as fast as you can, and don't come back unless you want to die."

Indra Ganesh shook his head and ran upstairs, determined to get all of the guards downstairs to arrest this man. Margaret Blaine, curious about what he was doing, followed after him.

The Doctor sighed. "I did try to warn him." He was about to head upstairs himself to stop Margaret and get the others, when Joseph Green and General Asquith appeared.

"What is this? What's going on here? Why are they all leaving?" Joseph Green queried.

"They got a whiff of the air here. It stinks to high heaven and I think I know why." The Doctor said, turning around to face the aliens. "It's because of you lot, you and your diseased perfume. You think you've got the world wrapped around your finger, or claw I should say, but I know the truth and it's going to spread far beyond here." The aliens stiffened, staring at him. "The whole world will know that Downing Street is literally under attack from inside, beneath your skin suits. The aliens landed a long time ago."

"Brothers and sisters, it is time we ended this charade and revealed our true facades." General Asquith said, unveiling his zipper.

Upstairs, Lestrade was frantically looking around. "There's got to be something we can use to destroy these aliens-" He opened up a cupboard, and the dead minister fell out. "Oh, so that's what happened to him." He stared, along with everyone else, down at the dead body, Harriet Jones and Rose in particular were horrified.

"They stuffed him in the cupboard?" Sherlock frowned to himself. "That doesn't seem like the sort of tactic these aliens would use. They would eat him or dispose of his body in a more cunning fashion. This is more like the work of an amateur, or someone who doesn't really care if they are caught, for he would have been found eventually."

"Perhaps they had to hide his body in a hurry or risk being discovered and this was the most convenient hiding place they could find on short notice?" John asked.

"All right, that would make more sense." Sherlock said.

"Odd, though." Mycroft said as he and Lestrade examined the body. "He appears to have been strangled to death."

Sherloock shrugged. "Given how powerful you said they were, it would be a good, efficient, quick tactic of killing someone as silently as possible without a lot of blood. And maybe they weren't hungry or confident enough to take the time to eat him."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Rose said with Harriet Jones nodding in agreement.

"I'm afraid you get used to these things after a while." John grimaced.

"By the way, you didn't happen to kill the prime minister, did you, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, shocking some of the others.

"Oh ye of little faith, I surely did not." Mycroft said.

"Well, how do I know you're not an alien yourself?" Sherlock asked. "You certainly are plump enough that they would have devoured you and worn your skin like a suit."

"Sherlock!" Both Lestrade and John shouted at him, offended that he could be so rude.

Mycroft scoffed. "You certainly are getting more paranoid, very good for you. I'm still human, but if you want, you can test me."

"The real Mycroft would know what I fear." Sherlock said, staring intently at him as everyone hushed.

"Redbeard." Mycroft said as everyone waited for Sherlock's response.

"Fair enough. Sorry that I doubted you there." Sherlock said, smiling as everyone stared at each other in confusion.

"Redbeard? What is he talking about?" John asked, but Sherlock did not feel like answering him then.

"No trouble at all." Mycroft said as Indra Ganesh arrived and stared down at the prime minister's body in horror.

"Oh my god, he's dead!" Indra cried and stared up at "You killed him, didn't you, Mycroft Holmes? Iceman? Murdering fiend!"

"Why does everyone always assume that I'm a killer?" Mycroft asked, pointing at his brother. "He's the sociopath here!"

"A high functioning sociopath, thank you very much." Sherlock said.

"I can't take much more of this." Harriet Jones said.

"Don't worry, you won't have to." Margaret Blaine smiled as she entered the room with almost everyone freezing and staring at her in horror now, except for Indra, who didn't know what was about to happen next.


	13. Hunting for Sport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock becomes the prey, Moriarty's name is mentioned, and 'World War 3' fits in one chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original Fanfiction.net author's note:
> 
> AN: So I just did World War Three in one chapter...yay! Hopefully I can do more one chapter stories later, because otherwise this thing might go on for awhile. Anyway, congratulations to Steven Moffat, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Martin Freeman for winning Emmys for Sherlock: His Last Vow. And Deep Breath was very good in my opinion, not great, but hopefully it's pointing in the right direction for where things are going this series. I enjoyed Peter Capaldi's performance immensely and looking forward to seeing the rest of the series. I wonder if Doctor Who would ever be nominated for Emmys here in the states? Maybe someday...(please excuse spelling mistakes and such, I'm using a WordPad right now. Will go back to regular Word later.)
> 
> Looking forward to Series Nine and more Sherlock later this year now.

Indra Ganesh thrust himself forward to confront Margaret Blaine about the dead prime minister and she merely laughed at him before revealing the zipper in her forehad. Both Sherlock and Mycroft privately examined their surroundings, calculating their best chances for escape. Lestrade and John tightened their fists, prepared to fight their way out if need be. Rose and Harriet Jones helplessly stared in horror as Margaret changed and pinned Indra Ganesh to the wall, the closest one to her, strangulating him the same way the prime minister had died.

Sherlock shouted, "Go now! Run!"

The others started to run and alien Margaret attempted to swipe at them, but suddenly she screamed as electrifying volts pulsated around her body. "What's happening?" Lestrade asked.

"I imagine that would be the Doctor." Rose grinned, remembering his 'weapon'.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered, "It probably won't last long."

"The emergency protocols!" Harriet Jones cried, snatching them up quickly as they raced out of the room.

"Good thinking." Mycroft remarked.

"Should we head downstairs?" John asked in the corridor.

"Downstairs is out of bound for now." Sherlock said. "There are at least two of them down there. I don't think we can risk breaking out of here just yet."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Run and hide?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm afraid so." Sherlock said, facing him and the others. "They are hunters, they like to chase down their prey. Split up and hide, make it harder for them to chase us down."

"What about the Doctor?" Rose asked.

"The Doctor said he would come upstairs. I'm holding him to that promise." Sherlock said.

Mycroft nodded and sent the others off in different directions. John might have protested at being separated from Sherlock, but with a stern gaze and a nod from his lover, John grumbled and went off the way Mycroft had indicated.

"Good luck." Mycroft muttered to his brother as he and Sherlock separated to hide.

"You too." Sherlock said. Sherlock waited for about a minute or two in his hiding spot, considering their options.

They were very few and the aliens would be coming soon to pick them off one by one, following their scents. Sherlock frowned at the grim picture, especially of John in danger. Instead of focusing on that, he put himself in the mindset of these great hunters, prone to playing practical jokes with menace and cunning. They probably loved a good challenge and playing games, hunting for sport as well as meat.

After a short period of time, he emerged and glanced about, listening. A tremor in the distance, not too heavy, but fairly light, alerted him to the presense of the alien Margaret where they had left her. He crept forward and hissed, alerting her to his presence, before darting off in another direction. A while later, he heard her following after him, just what he wanted.

He would give her and the others the sport they needed, making it as hard and challenging as possible. He dashed one way, changed course, then doubled back and went another way. He sped through, in and out of rooms, and made a circle and then a figure eight through corridors. He even went up and down several flights of stairs.

He managed to avoid and evade the alien Margaret and then the two other aliens who made their way upstairs. That was hard for him to do at times, as they were quite fast for creatures of their girth. But he was quick and athletic as well, occasionally twisting round corners like he might fly off the wall and jumping down steps when racing downstairs.

There were narrow misses when he was a hair's breadth away from them, dodging round claws and slipping past them like a streak. He might have even jumped over one of them and slid under another, but that could have been a gross exaggeration.

Occasionally, he found himself in the same room or corridor where one of the others hid. But he quickly averted course to avoid leading the aliens too close to their hiding spots or to alert the others as to his tactic of distracting the alien hunters. They would surely protest and try to stop him from making a sacrificial move, especially John, no matter how necessary it might be.

Meanwhile, John fidgeted in his hiding place, not liking taking such a cowardly position, especially as he worried about what might happen to Sherlock and the others while he stayed here. He figured Sherlock might do something stupidly brilliant and get himself killed.

In fact, Sherlock nearly had killed himself several times since John had first met him when the cab-driver confronted him, he knocked that anti-plastic into the Nestene Consciousness's vat, he held down that lever in the boiling space station and chased after that undertaker. If it wasn't for John and the Doctor helping him out, Sherlock would have been dead by now.

John realized it was ridiculous and pointless for him to hide for long, no matter what Sherlock had said about those aliens. Sherlock and the others probably needed him. He extracted himself from his hiding spot, intending to find Sherlock and stop him from killing himself before it was too late. However, he had not expected to come across a group of aliens so quickly.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had watched General Asquith unveil himself, curious as to what sort of alien the general might be so that he would know what they were dealing with here. But he didn't recognize Asquith's species. Before the Doctor could run off or act, Joseph Green had discharged his electrical weapon, stunning the Doctor with the special access badge.

But the Doctor, in great pain, managed to pry it off and stun General Asquith, which affected Joseph Green in turn and, the Doctor imagined, the rest of the aliens as well. Their compression collars probably shared the same network connection, spreading the electrical discharge. The Doctor figured that would be the case, although he had not been entirely certain.

He ran off to fetch some soldiers, knowing they had only a short time to catch the aliens off-guard before the discharge shorted out and the aliens were restored to normal strength. But by the time the Doctor and the soldiers returned, General Asquith had disguised himself again, discrediting the Doctor's accusation. Jospeh Green ordered the soldiers to arrest the Doctor, leading to another chase.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and exhausted with the whole fiasco, which had gotten out of hand. But he managed to crack a smile and get a laugh out of being cornered at the lift. He jammed the lift with his sonic screwdriver so that no one else besides him would be able to use it. The aliens could take the stairs for all he cared. A little exercise might do them some good.

The lift opened on the next floor in time for the Doctor to catch a glimpse of Sherlock running past, not even stopping or slowing down to look at the Doctor. A few seconds later, the alien Margaret Blaine appeared, lumbering after Sherlock, although she paused to turn and glare at the Doctor, blinking and growling.

"Hello." The Doctor smiled and waved, pressing the lift button for the next floor before Margaret could charge at him.

The Doctor sighed and frowned as the lift doors closed, shaking his head. Sherlock really was a trouble-maker and instigator, no matter how smart he might be. He would get himself and maybe others killed as well sooner rather than later. Almost reminded him of Adric...and himself. At the next floor, the Doctor got off and headed back down to help out Sherlock and the others.

At that point, transformed into their alien selves, General Asquith and Joseph Green met Margaret Blaine and joined in her hunt for Sherlock Holmes. The thrill of the chase coursed through them as they followed the scent of a young man, cool, crisp, and refined even as he sweated and exerted himself. He smelled much like his older brother, except without the ice and frost with more coarse heat, passion, and anger, rage even. They loved it.

However, as they pursued Sherlock, suddenly they caught whiff of another man, older, plumper, weaker from past injury, yet still angry and passionate. Actually, he smelled similar to the younger man, probably because of some close, intimate relationship between them. They twisted round, breaking off their pursuit to growl at the other man, John Watson.

"Oh, bollocks." John said, catching sight of their claws and teeth coming at him. He wished he had his gun with him, but he had left it behind at home earlier.

He was prepared to run, not certain if he would be able to outpace them, when suddenly he and the aliens heard Sherlock shouting, "Eat me! Come on over here, and eat me! I'm juicy and tender, fresh and moist." Sherlock pointed. "He's old and fat, with bones that will splinter in your gullet. Come on and eat me!"

John's eyes widened, both shocked and touched that Sherlock would do such a thing to save him, although part of him oddly felt a little bit insulted. However, just as one of the aliens said, "Why don't we eat them both?" The Doctor popped out of a room with a fire extinguisher.

"Hello." The Doctor said again, spraying the aliens, just the distraction that both Sherlock and John needed to start running again, this time hand in hand.

"Yeti in the loo!" The Doctor cried out, running after the two boys, and like magic, the others popped out of their hiding places and started running after them, heading to the cabinet room.

There, the Doctor grabbed a bottle of scotch and, pressing his sonic screwdriver against it, confronted the aliens outside as he threatened to blow them all up to get some more information. Meanwhile, Sherlock collapsed against the wall in another corner of the room, panting heavily and totally exhausted from running as John found a pitcher of water and got him a glass.

"Thanks, mate. Cheers." Sherlock muttered, putting on an accent as a half-joke. Yet he greedily gulped down that water like it was the best thing in the world and it almost was, until something better came along.

John cupped his face in his hands and kissed him soon after, tenderly and then fierce as if he couldn't get enough. Sherlock sagged, letting go of all his tension and fear from earlier. He nearly broke his glass as he set it down and embraced John in turn, sucking air out of him.

John gasped as he let go of Sherlock and hissed, "Don't ever do that to me again."

"What? Save your life? You're going to need it." Sherlock said.

"I don't want to lose you." John said, hugging him close. "Not ever."

"I promise not to let that happen. Satisfied?" Sherlock asked.

"Not even close." John remarked, causing Sherlock to laugh.

Rose and Harriet watched the scene out of the corner of their eyes with some interest, although they were equally engrossed with the Doctor confronting the Slitheen, which turned out to be their family name, not species.

Sherlock laughed. "Of course you don't say I'm human, or whatever you are. You say your family or personal name. Who would go around calling themselves by their species name?"

"You would be surprised." The Doctor muttered. He soon had them locked up inside the cabinet room, sealed off from the Slitheen and almost the rest of the world.

"But at least we're dealing with a family unit, I think." The Doctor said. "Not a full alien species invasion. This is a family business, a few individuals at most. Brothers and sisters most likely, maybe a few of their spouses as well. Yes, we can deal with that, but what exactly are they doing?"

Harriet Jones had a few suggestions, but Sherlock said, "From what little I have seen of other worlds, and that is very little, they most likely have as much if not more of such things as the Earth does."

The Doctor shrugged. "That's true, Earth and its resources are not as uncommon as you might think. And they were dismissive of the Earth entirely, calling it a rock." He scoffed and frowned, still concerned.

Meanwhile Greg Lestrade found himself clutching Mycroft Holmes's hand, although he let go of it after a few moments. He wasn't certain if now was the right time to get into all of that when they should be concentrating on other things.

However, Mycroft grabbed his hand and lightly squeezed it when no one was looking, or when he thought no one was looking. Greg thinly smiled and returned the squeeze before letting go again. At least his doubt was gone for now.

They stored away the dead bodies of Indra Ganesh and the prime minister as the Doctor kept wondering where he had heard Harriet Jones's name before.

"What in hell is going on here?" Lestrade cried, coming after Sherlock. "First you told us all to run and hide, next thing I know, you're running all about the place, not even taking cover! What gives?"

"I was trying to distract them to give you all a better chance at remaining safely hidden." Sherlock sniffed.

"That was a very foolish thing to do, brother mine." Mycroft remarked. "Mum would have been terribly upset with me if you had died so soon after coming home."

"Ugh, domestics." The Doctor groaned.

"You're just glad I did it so that they wouldn't have eaten you so quickly." Sherlock remarked.

"I would have preferred it if it was not necessary at all for you to do such a thing, for mother's sake at least." Mycroft remarked.

"Why, brother, I'm touched. You really do care." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as John stifled a laugh.

"Oh, hush." Mycroft said, walking away from the pair.

"Personally, I think it was a brave thing for him to do. Thank you, Sherlock." Harriet Jones said.

"Think nothing of it." Sherlock said, smiling.

"Please don't encourage him." John muttered.

"Like he needs any more, he's puffed up enough already." Rose laughed. "Happy as a clownfish, my mum would...mum!" Rose cried. "I better call her."

At that point, however, she received the text from Mickey with the Slitheen picture in her own flat, and soon they were all on speaker-phone, listening in to Mickey and Rose's mum Jackie explaining their situation.

"Sherlock, John, did you two bring your laptop with you?" The Doctor asked.

The two fellows hesitated and glanced at each other as Sherlock said, "We left it behind at our flat in the rush to catch my brother's helicopter."

"Why are you apes always so careless?" The Doctor asked, earning a frown from the two fellows, and sighed. "All right, Mickey, I need you to do me a big favor." He instructed Mickey how to get into UNIT's database and gain access to their audio files of a signal from the North Sea.

Rose's mum Jackie then asked if her daughter or anyone else traveling with the Doctor was safe. The Doctor hesitated and failed to answer as Rose tried to assure her mum. He couldn't promise them anything. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep them safe. They would all die eventually and he worried it would be sooner rather than later, all because of him.

Sherlock and John glanced at each other, but didn't say anything to the Doctor. They had figured out, long before now, that no one was safe traveling with the Doctor, not even the Doctor himself, so long as he kept getting involved in troubling situations. But they would still try their best to protect each other, no matter what.

"Is this the Slitheen?" Lestrade asked as they heard the audio file play.

"I got a hold of the file that would be passed out to the alien experts at tonight's meeting, and this signal was mentioned under 'miscellanous' when it might be the point." The Doctor said. "They're broadcasting this signal, advertising."

"Advertising what?" Rose asked.

Around that point, Mickey and Jackie were attacked again, but the Doctor, with the others' assistance, Sherlock in particular as he yelled out that the Slitheen hunted for sport, figured out what species and planet the Slitheen came from. The Doctor told Mickey and Jackie that the Slitheen could be destroyed with vinegar.

Sherlock filed that away in his mind for future reference in case they ever encountered the Slitheen or their kind again as they all toasted Hannibal in the Alps, according to Harriet Jones. Even Mycroft found himself smiling at her story, though his eyes lingered on Lestrade.

Meanwhile, as one of the Slitheen was destroyed, the three other Slitheen that remained outside Downing Street were called back to their headquarters. The police officers that had been approaching Sergeant Donovan, Mycroft's house with Anthea inside, and Sherlock's flat with Ms. Hudson inside diverted, changing into their other human suits. They arrived at Downing Street soon after, with the Doctor and others watching the news coverage on John's phone.

"Not counting that police officer one that was destroyed, we have six Slitheen here now. That's probably all of them." The Doctor said.

"I sincerely hope you're right." Sherlock muttered.

Soon, Joseph Green came out and announced the presence of an alien mothership, asking the UN to pass a resolution to release the nuclear codes. At that point, the Doctor realized what was happening and confronted the Slitheen about their plans to destroy the Earth and sell off the scrap.

"Where the hell did you get such an idea?" John cried out, shocked at such a horrible plan.

"Don't blame us." Margaret Blaine grinned. "If you really want someone to blame, blame Moriarty. He's the one who came up with the plan."

"Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, stunned after the Doctor had sealed them back up again.

"What's wrong? Do you know him?" John asked as the Doctor and the others listened intently.

"I don't know him, I know of him." Sherlock said. "That murderous cab-driver said Moriarty gave him the plan, the means, and the motive to do away with all those people. Moriarty would pay for each murder so that the cab driver would be able to support his children after he died."

"Why would he do such a thing, Moriarty or the cab-driver?" Rose asked.

"The cab-driver was dying, he wanted to take care of his children, and as for Moriarty, apparently he's a 'fan' of mine." Sherlock said. "He wanted to know if I would solve the case. I never learned anything else about the man, the person, but that name. Yet now I see his pattern, his technique of working behind the scenes, orchestrating other people's crimes, possibly just for his own amusement. I don't see what other sort of benefit he would gain here aside from that, especially if he is going to be destroyed along with the rest of the planet."

"But how can he be involved with aliens?" John asked.

Sherlock helplessly shrugged. "Possibly he's an alien himself? I don't know if that would make any sense or be possible, but it might be an explanation for how he can gain something here and avoid Earth's destruction."

The Doctor frowned to himself and shook his head, not mentioning anything about his former enemy, the Master. That was such a long time ago and the Master was dead anyway, yet this reminded him of one of the Master's schemes. The Master would have done something like this, helped the Slitheen out, if it meant the Doctor's 'precious' Earth would be destroyed and he might gain some benefit from it.

"Give me that phone!" Mycroft and Lestrade both cried out, snatching Sherlock's and John's phones to contact Anthea and Donovan in turn to see if they had made any progress in their missions to discredit the reputation of Downing Street. However, despite their best efforts, the alien menace now seemed too prominent in everyone's minds and not even Mycroft's reputation was enough to stop that UN resolution from passing.

Mycroft swore softly to himself and so they waited to hear the awful news, everyone trying to come up with some idea of stopping the aliens until finally the Doctor sighed. "I have a plan, but you're not going to like it." He muttered, calling Jackie and telling her and everyone else of the danger the plan posed to Rose and the rest of the people in this room, that they might not survive.

The others glanced at each other, considering the problem, until finally Rose told the Doctor to do it, and the others slowly nodded. Both Mycroft and Harriet Jones, as government officals, gave their permission and ordered the Doctor to act. So the Doctor told Mickey to launch a missile right at Downing Street, and countermand any defensive measures, to destroy the Slitheen before they could launch a nuclear attack.

"Is this it?" John asked, glancing around at the others. "Is this how we're going to die?"

"We could always try hiding in the broom cupboard." Sherlock shrugged, "Ride out the blast."

The Doctor grinned. "Good idea."

So they all managed to stuff themselves inside the cupboard, pushing out the dead bodies. They clutched tightly at each other for comfort, Harriet Jones shouting out "Hannibal!" just before the missile hit them. They were rocked about, jumbled together, and tumbled down, but they managed to survive and emerge, whole and secure, from the broom cupboard.

"We made it! We survived!" Lestrade cheered, whooping for joy as he hugged and even kissed Mycroft.

"You owe me 20 pounds." Sherlock told John.

"I'll pay you later." John said. Rose called her mum to tell her everything was okay and Mycroft called Anthea to send a car down to fetch them.

"Thank you, Doctor, Sherlock, for saving me, the country, and the world." Mycroft said, approaching them. "We owe you all a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid, literally, I'm afraid. Your secrets are too important to be released to the public."

"I don't expect any sort of payment." The Doctor remarked.

"Perhaps a small payment wouldn't be too remiss, to help cover the rent while Sherlock and I are gone?" John asked as Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"And maybe my mother and Mickey should get something to pay for the damage to their flats?" Rose asked.

"And maybe you should try finding out who Moriarty is while I'm gone?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft sighed and agreed to their small exorbition fees. He was also concerned about another alien menace in the form of this Moriarty.

Meanwhile, Harriet Jones ran off to meet the reporters and tell them everything was all right. The Doctor suddenly remembered who she was, the future prime minister of Britain. Mycroft smirked to himself, evaluating her from a different angle politcally speaking and nodded to himself.

"Yes, she'll do just fine. I'll make sure she's ready for it." Mycroft said. The car soon arrived and Mycroft said, "The four of you can use it, if you wish. Lestrade and I are probably going to be busy here with Ms. Harriet Jones."

"Please don't groom her too much in a reflection of yourself." Sherlock said.

"I'll try my best to avoid that. Good luck and good-bye, brother?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, as soon as possible." Sherlock said. "Tell Mum and Dad I'm sorry I can't stay, but I'll see them next time I come back, whenever that may be." He walked off with John, the Doctor and Rose and got into the car.

"I hope you will." Mycroft said.

"You really should go see your parents one of these days, Sherlock." John remarked inside the car. "Perhaps I might be able to meet them, too?"

"If you wish, perhaps." Sherlock said, "But they are rather mundane."

Rose laughed. "I'm sorry, but I'm finding it hard to imagine that yours and Mycroft's parents are rather mundane. What is the rest of your family like?"

"You don't want to know." Sherlock ominously said.

"Maybe I do." Rose said, glancing at the Doctor. "What do you think? Want to meet their parents?"

"Oh no, I don't want to get involved there. Your mum and Mickey are bad enough." The Doctor said as the others laughed.

Meanwhile, Lestrade sighed and told Mycroft, "I better get going, check on Donovan, and make sure the situation's here okay. Do you think you and Ms. Harriet Jones can handle things here?"

"I think we'll do just fine. See you later?" Mycroft said and Lestrade nodded, causing him to smile. For the first time in a while, Mycroft thought he had something to look forward to.

A little while afterward, Mycroft received a tap on his shoulder and turned around to face a smiling blond man, dressed in a tuxedo, standing next to his fashionably adorned blonde wife. "Hello, Mr. Holmes? My name is Harold Saxon, and this is my wife Lucy..."

Meanwhile, the foursome stopped by the hospital to pick up the fake alien so that they could find a new home for it, bidding farewell to Molly and Tosh. Molly was worried about what might happen to Sherlock and John, traveling with the alien Doctor, but she hid it well as she hugged them, hopefully not for the last time. Sherlock reluctantly accepted her hug.

Tosh left St. Barts then and contacted Owen and her boss Captain Jack Harkness, apprising them of the situation she had been through. Captain Jack slowly nodded, but said nothing to Owen or Tosh about his own past experiences with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Rose. That was so long ago, and yet it seemed it hadn't happened to them yet. He silently wished them good luck with everything they were about to go through.

After that, the foursome went by 221B Baker Street to pick up the last of Sherlock's and John's things for traveling with the Doctor and Rose meeting Ms. Hudson and sampling her tea and biscuits. Both the Doctor and Rose promised to come back along with the boys, and they also got a good hug from the landlady. Finally, they returned to Rose's flat and soon they were gone again in the TARDIS.


	14. I Won't Let You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty and the Master talk as Rose reflects on her time with the Doctor and the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I originally wrote when I first posted this on Fanfiction:
> 
> Hello, again. I'm out of town once more. I have not seen Listen, but I have read reviews about it, because I felt like spoiling myself. Looking forward to seeing it after I get back. So far, I do like 12, especially with Robot of Sherwood. Hopefully he might eventually, maybe a couple of years from now, show up in this fic. Now this week, I'm doing an interval chapter-I'll start Dalek next time. I just feel like focusing on some other characters...

"Morning, Lucy, Harold." Moriarty smiled as the couple walked into their London townhouse.

"Morning, James." Lucy smiled at her husband's friend, though a bit coolly, before she moved on to the private quarters. She wanted to freshen up and change her clothes after trudging through the wreckage of 10 Downing Street, an absolute mess.

She didn't quite trust James, who looked too snakelike to her. But the Master trusted him, and she supposed that was reason enough to stand him for a little while longer. The Master had promised her that, someday, they would be rid of Moriarty, once they were free of the TARDIS restraint that kept them either stuck on Earth or Utopia.

She shivered a moment as she recalled that horrendous, hellish vision of a place. But she blocked it from her mind with the hope the Master offered her of traveling beyond the stars, to see and conquer the entire universe. They would know, fear, and love the name Lucy Saxon.

"Bitch." Moriarty muttered, shaking his head as she vanished. "Head stuck up her ass."

"You're just jealous." The Master said. "She has her resources and her uses and she knows how to play the game well."

"So what if I am? And I can play the game way better than she can." Moriarty remarked.

"No one doubts how well you can play, but not the type of game we're playing." The Master said.

"Fine, I'll be good. So how did it go over there, Master?" Moriarty asked. "Did you get a hold of Mycroft? What did he have to say about what happened?"

"Yes, I did." The Master said, frowning as he explained some of what he had gleaned out of the Iceman. "He knows about you. The Slitheen mentioned your name when they were confronting the Doctor and his friends."

"Oh, bollocks. I was hoping to stay off of Mycroft's radar for a little while longer." Moriarty sighed. "Well, never mind, I suppose it would have to come out sooner or later. We'll deal with him eventually. Is that all you got out of him?"

"He saw and knew everything about the Slitheen plan, thanks to the Doctor and his brother Sherlock's investigations." The Master said. "He received some future knowledge from the Doctor about Ms. Harriet Jones, one of the back-bench MPs, becoming prime minister."

"Ms. Harriet Jones? She sounds revolting. I'm certainly not going to vote for her." Moriarty said.

"I don't know. She might be relatively inexperienced in terms of politics, perhaps easy enough to influence." The Master frowned. "We shall have to see. Hopefully Mycroft won't get his claws dug too deeply into her."

"I think you might be going into a losing battle there." Moriarty said. "Mycroft was with her during one of the most trying hours of her life, I should imagine, with ravenous aliens taking over Parliament, threatening to destroy the Earth, and then a missile crashes into Downing Street. He's probably a big influence on her already. But who would have guessed a missile would take out Downing Street and the Slitheen?"

"The Doctor contacted one of his companions to get access to the missile that destroyed Downing Street through UNIT." The Master added. "That was all I got out of Mycroft and it was more than enough."

"I'm surprised that they did use a missile." Moriarty said. "You said he doesn't like to use weapons, especially guns, even to destroy his enemies."

"Well, the Time War changed him, probably more than he evens knows." The Master said. "Nowadays he's more likely to resort to measures he once considered as anathema to further his own goals. If he knew that his precious earth was threatened, there wouldn't be anything he wouldn't do to save it."

"And Gallifrey? His home planet, your home planet?" Moriarty asked.

I can't say the same for him there." The Master growled.

"He's my kind of man there." Moriarty grinned. "It's surprising as well that no one questioned what happened with the destruction of Downing Street."

"Mycroft, Ms. Harriet Jones, UNIT and those alien experts who escaped are handling that situation as best they can." The Master commented. "They'll try to keep panic and questioning down to a minimum."

"Should we encourage that panic?" Moriarty asked.

"It's debatable how much of an impact it might have, and it might negatively affect us as well, drawing attention." The Master said.

"Well, let's avoid any more of that. There weren't any problems getting into Mycrroft's mind, was there?" Moriarty asked, turning to the Master.

"What do you mean by that?" The Master asked. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"

"No, not that, I'm just curious. Archangel is strong enough to do that?" Moriarty asked.

"Archangel is still weak." The Master said. "It needs to be further refined before it can be effectively used on a wide population. But yes, it's good enough to handle one man."

"Did he resist you? Will he remember what you did to him? Will there be any changes to him? Can you influence him?" Moriarty wickedly grinned at that last thought, having the Iceman as a puppet to command was so much fun to think about.

"Subtly I can influence him. Not enough to take control of him, but enough to leave some suggestions." The Master said.

"Oh, poo. I would have loved to make him dance." Moriarty said.

"You can make some people dance, but not all of them." The Master remarked. "He has a pretty strong mind that does resist my control. However, it is not strong enough to completely block me out. Only Time Lords and certain other individuals are completely immune." The Master frowned.

"I'm one of them, aren't I?" Moriarty asked.

"Never mind that." The Master wished at times that he could have controlled Moriarty right from the beginning of their 'partnership'. It would have made things so much easier between them if he had such a powerful, intelligent person completely under his control to act as his intermediary with the outside world.

But oddly enough, the criminal mastermind did show a remarkable, uncanny, almost superhuman capability of being able to resist and block the Master's control of him. Moriarty had simply laughed whenever the Master did try, and so the Master had given up on that.

Sometimes he half wondered if Moriarty was completely human, if there was some alien DNA in his genes. There might even be some fob watch somewhere, or an equivalent thereof, that had Moriarty's Time Lord essence trapped inside. It was folly to think on that too much, although the Master did keep his eyes open, just in case.

"I certainly did make him forget about what I did to him, or else he would have had some upsetting concerns." The Master said.

"I bet." Moriarty smiled, remembering the trance-like state he had observed on other people's faces as the Master had delved deeply into their minds.

He had never been in that predicament, no matter how hard the Master had tried that trick on him. But he could imagine the shock and trauma those people might have suffered if they had been aware of the Master's probing. Quite funny, once you thought about it.

"I can't change him, however." The Master said. "I can't make him do anything totally anathema to his nature or make him forget everything. And besides, if I changed him too much, people who do know him well, like Sherlock, are bound to notice and question what happened."

"Ah, I see. Don't want to alert them too early about your presence, but as for me, I'm fair game." Moriarty sighed.

"The others heard your name as well, not just Mycroft." The Master said. "It's out in the open. It's too late for me to take it back now and make them forget. They're already gone."

"I see your point." Moriarty remarked. "I still hate it. But maybe it might make things more interesting. My name will strike fear in their hearts without ever knowing whose face I possess." Moriarty grinned.

"It's your own fault as well for getting involved with the Slitheen." The Master said. "They babble as well as fart too much. I would have suggested a different family, or another alien group to align ourselves with"

"I liked their farting. Too bad they're all gone." Moriarty sighed. "Besides, the Slitheen would have succeeded if it wasn't for the Doctor and his friends destroying them. I can't say the same for your Auton friends. I don't know much about other aliens, but from what I gather, whatever sort of aliens we could have aligned ourselves with, the Doctor probably would have disrupted their schemes and our schemes as well."

Before the Master could protest, the phone rang. He answered as Harold Saxon, and then frowned. "James, it's for you." He said, handing the phone over. "It's Margaret Blaine. She's alive, alone, hurt and stranded. She wants you to come pick her up."

"What?" Moriarty frowned, taking the phone. "Where are you and why should I care? You failed me." He listened and nodded. "I see. All right, I will consider trying to help you one last time. Fail me again, and you will wish you died with your brothers and sister." He hung up the phone.

"You really are going to try helping her one last time?" The Master asked. "Feeling sentimental?"

Moriarty shrugged. "Call it a moment of weakness. I still expect to see some results out of her, though."

* * *

Several weeks ago, Rose had been living a rather mundane sort of life, working a steady job, living with her mum, and seeing her boyfriend and friends. She had made mistakes in the past, but she was making up for them. She was trying to earn a living for herself and her mum so that they could be more independent, not so reliant on their boyfriends. She was looking forward at times to changing her life, advancing or going somewhere, but even then something was missing from her life that she couldn't quite name.

Then the Doctor came into her life and changed everything. Rose hadn't expected her life to get so out of control at that point. And even then, if it wasn't for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson showing up on her doorstep, nothing might have come out of it.

Aside from that experience at the department store, and the Auton hand, Rose and the Doctor might have parted ways and never met again if it wasn't for the fact that John helped her find Clive and more information about the Doctor, while Sherlock stuck around with the Doctor, leading to them all meeting again. Maybe, just maybe, Rose could have found Clive on her own and gotten back with the Doctor without John or Sherlock around to help, but she wasn't willing to bet on it.

She kind of enjoyed having the boys around, as she and probably the Doctor thought of them. They were extra company, quite funny, and could be helpful at times. Sherlock was admittedly brilliant and could point things out rather quickly, while John was a medical doctor and quite brave on his own. And they were together, which was sort of sweet in a way that surprised Rose and made her think...nah. It probably would never happen.

But then again, neither Sherlock nor John had really been together until they started traveling together with the Doctor and Rose, experiencing such exciting, dangerous activity that might have trumped even Sherlock's cases and thrust them even closer together. They were so incompatible, or so it seemed at times, that they might never have imagined being together until it finally happened. Who knows if they would have ever gotten together if they weren't shaken out of their routines and encountered the alien side of the universe? It made Rose think that maybe someday...no, it probably would never happen.

But the way he had looked at her in that meeting room in Downing Street with her mum on the phone asking if he could keep her safe, and then later he said he couldn't protect Rose, that he might lose her...Rose wondered how he really felt about her. And how she really felt about him. Her heart swelled up whenever the Doctor looked that way at her, almost as if it might break.

But she tried to deny and dismiss those feelings as well. She was just really good friends with him, that's all. She cared enough about him to worry, and he cared enough about her to do the same. There wasn't anything more there than that. Still, it was a really good feeling she got inside, even though it might hurt, whenever the Doctor looked at her that way. Even better when he smiled and laughed as well.

However, she still had to remember the reason why she finally chose to travel with the Doctor, the hope that maybe she might convince him to let her see her father, to be by his side when he died, and maybe even save him if she could. Sherlock had tried to dissuade her from those thoughts, that the Doctor wouldn't allow her to change the past when it went against the laws of time travel. But he promised to keep her secret until she was ready to ask. That was pretty decent of the detective.

She still had not gotten the nerve to ask the Doctor, though, to help her, even though weeks had gone by since Downing Street blew up. Time passed strangely at times; she, the Doctor, Sherlock and John would spend hours, maybe even days, cooped up inside the TARDIS, floating through space. They would relax in their rooms, read books from the TARDIS's massive library, and watch TV and movies from all across the universe and other times. (Some of those movies and shows were strange and outlandish, with plots that only the Doctor could explain.)

They played games of all sorts, video games and sports, with Sherlock and John in particular exercising now and again, though she and the Doctor usually avoided the gym, aside from a bit of football and swimming. The TARDIS pool was massive and lovely, sometimes with a fake beach as well. But of course, they couldn't spend all of their time cooped up inside the TARDIS, not when there was a whole universe to explore out there as well. And so they would go traveling, jumping through time and space.

Usually it would be Earth or an off-shoot of that, as the Doctor figured they might prefer some 'familiar' terrain, even though it was far from what they had ever experienced. At other times, though, he introduced them to strange worlds and different aliens that they never would have thought possible, but they loved every minute of it. Except, of course, for those bad times whenever they came across any danger or any foe that would cause trouble for them or people around them. Then they would have to step in and help out, no matter what.

Except for those one or two times when they couldn't help out, when they were too helpless to do anything to stop what was happening. One of those times, they landed in the middle of a war. The Doctor hated that, she knew, and she could see the darkness in his eyes that must have come from the war his people fought, which had destroyed his whole planet. She was afraid in those moments that he might be completely subsumed by that sense of helplessness, destruction, despair and darkness that surrounded them.

But for the moment, he seemed to be keeping his head above water, just barely. As soon as they had landed and found out where they were, what was going on, he had wanted out of there, and she had agreed with him. What was going on here was terrible and she wished there was some way that they could fix this, make things better. But she was afraid of what might happen to the Doctor if they stayed there longer than necessary. However, they hadn't been able to return to the TARDIS as it had been lost in the middle of the battlefield. There was little chance of them getting back to the TARDIS without crossing the battlefield, which they eventually had to do. What a nightmare.

She wondered if Watson would react the same way as well, when he had been injured in Afghanistan in what must have been at times a brutal conflict. But he actually seemed quite comfortable with what was going on around them, apart from some grim stoicism on his part. He had an attitude of dealing with what must be dealt with. She felt like he might be ready to pick up a gun and protect them if necessary, fighting against the unknown foe, if the Doctor wasn't so opposed to fighting, or Watson in particular fighting. The Doctor seemed to be aware and mindful of Watson's attitude, treading gingerly around him and trying to keep the man away from fighting, just like she worried about the Doctor himself. She wondered if the Doctor saw himself in Watson.

And as for Sherlock Holmes...well, he seemed to be absorbed and intrigued in everything happening around him, as usual. He observed and noted what was going on, deducing some information about the nature of the conflict. He got some impressions of the people involved in the fighting and their reactions to the fighting. He watched his friends and lover as well, figuring out how they felt about the conflict, and eventually agreed that they should get out of here as soon as possible. He was most worried about what was happening here when Watson risked his life.

* * *

It happened when Sherlock, the Doctor, John and Rose were under cover from a barrage passing overhead, hunkered down and afraid that they might be targeted, when a soldier in the distance, running across the battlefield, was hit. While the others stared at the sight in horror, John Watson stiffened and watched with intensity until he saw the wounded soldier moving, and heard him crying out for help. John launched himself out of cover before Sherlock could stop him and raced across the battlefield to the wounded man's side.

"I'll get him. Just stay here!" The Doctor shouted at Sherlock and Rose, racing after him to help.

Sherlock was panicking, the most frightened she had ever seen him. Rose had to restrain him as well from bolting after the others, though she was more afraid of being left alone in this foxhole than that he would be hurt in that moment. They watched, gripping each other tightly, in horror as the Doctor and John managed to lift up the wounded man between them and half drag, half carry him back.

A dust cloud stirred up by the barrage obscured their vision, and the Doctor had taken off his jacket to shield himself, the wounded man, and John from the dirt. Several times, the Doctor, John, and the wounded man seemed to vanish in the dust and the sound of the barrage would continue around them, frightening Rose and Sherlock even more as they worried about their friends and (maybe, in Rose's case) lovers being killed.

However, the dust cloud would fade away, and the Doctor and John would still be there. Finally, the Doctor and John returned, now dragging the wounded man under their cover, making it even more crowded and uncomfortable under there with the wounded man sweating and bleeding, still crying for help and water. John bent over, tending to the wounded man once more as the Doctor sagged, exhausted next to them. Rose wrapped an arm around the Doctor for both of their comforts.

"Don't ever do that to me again." Sherlock hissed at John.

"And what would you have me do, leave him to die out there?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, though even he was a bit hesitant to say that, knowing John's feelings on the matter. Both Rose and the Doctor arched their eyebrows at that.

"You're heartless." John muttered, turning back to the wounded man.

"He does have a point, though." The Doctor remarked. "You could have gotten us both killed, John, running out there. And then where would we have been?"

"Squashed flatter than a pancake or blown to pieces." Rose shivered.

"Exactly. You all right, Rose?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine enough. Thanks for asking." She sighed. "I just wish we weren't here."

"I know exactly how you feel." The Doctor muttered.

"You could have just regenerated." John muttered. "And you didn't have to run out there after me."

"Of course I did have to run out there after you. Sherlock would have blamed me for it if I didn't. I would have never heard the end of it." The Doctor said.

"You're damn right I wouldn't have let that go." Sherlock said. "And I would have run out there-"

"Exactly. Sherlock, a civilian, would have run out there on his own to save you. I never would have heard the end of it from you, John, if Sherlock had died." The Doctor said.

"A civilian? You think of me as a civilian?" Sherlock asked, shocked. "I'm a bloody good detective. That's way more than any ordinary civilian."

"Hmm, more or less." The Doctor said, causing Sherlock to frown.

"And what does that make you, Doctor? A soldier?" Rose asked.

"I'm not a soldier, not anymore." The Doctor barked out, then sighed. "But I know what it's like to be one."

John grimaced, glancing around at his friends and lover. "All right, I might have made a lousy mistake running out there like that without even thinking or taking stock of my surroundings. But I still did it for the right reasons, and this man will live, thanks to you and me, Doctor."

"Don't thank me." The Doctor said. "Just save him." John slowly nodded, and went back to his duties.

"Besides, it's not always a given that I'll regenerate." The Doctor said, continuing an earlier strand of their conversation. "A really good hit could have blown me to pieces, and who can regenerate out of that? And someday, maybe soon, I'm going to run out of regenerations."

"What's this regeneration and regenerated business?" Rose asked.

"We'll talk about that later." The Doctor said.

"Hopefully before it ever happens." Sherlock remarked with a grin. "Otherwise she's in for a big surprise."

"Oh, hush." The Doctor said.

"How many regenerations do you have left?" John asked, looking up at the Doctor.

"A couple, more than enough for me, thanks." The Doctor sighed.

"And then what happens next?" Sherlock asked, looking up at him.

The Doctor shrugged. "Nothing happens for me next. No more regenerations, no more options left. I would die for good and all after that."

Rose paused and stared at him, just like Sherlock and John. "You can't die yet." Rose said, tearing up. "We need you."

The Doctor sighed and softened. "You don't have to worry about that, Rose, John, and Sherlock." He added. "That's not going to happen to me for awhile yet, years and years down the line. I'm still going to continue for a long time." And he was afraid, though he didn't want to admit it or tell them, that he might outlive them or never see them someday.

"Good." Rose said, nodding. "Because I won't let you die."

She realized then that she meant it, because she loved him, yet she was afraid of her love for him. He was a hard, cold, broken man and it would be difficult to love him, maybe even more difficult than it was for John to love Sherlock. And it might be harder for the Doctor to love her in turn, just like Sherlock loved John. She didn't know much about the Doctor, she had to admit to herself; he was an alien, not entirely human. They might not even be compatible for all she knew.

He was far older, grander, and stranger than she would ever be, yet that didn't mean she didn't matter. She did matter, and she would have to take care of herself as well, just like she always knew she would. She couldn't always depend on him to be around, she realized, just like her father. She would have to face things on her own someday. And maybe find someone else to love as well. For now, she chose to ignore her feelings for the Doctor. There were others out there, she knew, not just him. She would ask him, though, if she could still see her father, Sherlock be damned.

Eventually, they got the wounded man to a field hospital and got back to the TARDIS. Rose thought about asking the Doctor for help a couple of times, but didn't try. Then they landed in Utah.


	15. The Museum of Legendary Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of Dalek and the arrival at the Museum of Legendary Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I originally posted on Fanfiction:
> 
> Author note: so I caught up with 'Listen' and 'Time Heist', the episodes I had missed, and then saw The Caretaker last week, yay. Looking forward to 'Kill the Moon' tonight and in that spirit, here's the start of Dalek

"John, is something troubling you?" Sherlock asked one 'night' inside the TARDIS, or at least what they determined was nighttime for them in a vehicle traveling through time and space, lying next to each other.

"Isn't it odd to think that you might find out about your future in the past?" John murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock lifted his head. "Are you still fixated on what that girl Gwyneth had to say back in 1860s Cardiff?"

"Aren't you at least concerned?" John turned to him. "The whole thing with the Slitheen and their smiling faces, like those 'men with hyena grins' she mentioned, had me concerned. Not to mention how we nearly avoided getting into World War Three there and she was talking about wars and battlefields. It sounds like more than coincidence to me."

"Battlefields…" Sherlock murmured, reminded of John and the Doctor running out onto the battlefield to save a wounded soldier, before he shook his head. "John, you should not believe such superstitious nonsense. She couldn't see the future. It was just the Gelth messing with her mind."

"The Doctor said it was possible, because of the rift." John shivered slightly.

"Possible, yes, but not the only explanation." Sherlock said. "Gelth are another and I'm more willing to believe that right now."

"A superstitious belief." John added.

"Point taken." Sherlock sighed, staring up at the ceiling of John's bedroom in silence. They had settled into their rooms on the TARDIS pretty well, and had even started to decorate their rooms with souvenirs from their trips as well as their own belongings. But they still tended to drift from one room to the other on different nights, not comfortable sleeping on their own and not desiring to do so when they wanted to be together.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked.

"Aside from the fact that you ran out onto a battlefield…"

John groaned. "I'm sorry for that, but I had to-"

"I know, I know, I just feel like giving you a hard time for that." Sherlock grinned.

John rolled his eyes. "I'm never going to live that down. What about Moriarty? Should we not be worried about whoever this alien or person is?" He asked.

"Aliens are people too, John, we've seen that." Sherlock admonished.

"You know what I mean, human or alien." John added.

"Well, I'm not too worried so long as Mycroft should be able to handle him or her or it. Whoever it is seems to be restricted to one time period and place, London in our present. So it's unlikely that they or it are able to follow us. Relax, John." Sherlock rubbed John's shoulder. "Moriarty can't get to us. Nothing can get to us here, in the starry reaches of time and space, deep inside the TARDIS."

"I might get more comfortable." John snuggled up against his lover, listening to the soft, distant murmuring and rumbling of the space-time vehicle traveling through the vortex.

* * *

However, before too long, as they were drifting off to sleep, an alarm rang, startling the two fellows into alertness. They quickly got out of bed and dressed, wondering what was going on before they headed to the console room. The Doctor and Rose were already there and dressed, having been awake and watching a movie when the TARDIS received a distress signal of some kind.

"Is there any indication what it could be?" Sherlock asked. "Who sent it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "No talking, just screaming and other urgent, disturbed noises and vibrations on the frequency."

"Sounds horrible." Rose murmured.

The Doctor nodded. "The TARDIS brought it to my attention and steered us off course towards it at the same time. I don't have any choice in the matter."

"Would you not have gone towards it then?" John asked.

The Doctor hesitated. "I don't know what we're dealing with here. The time period and place is wrong for something with the strength and ability to broadcast such a signal through space and the time vortex to reach my TARDIS. Whatever it is seems to have been seriously displaced. I would have at least liked to find out something more."

"Then find out more." Sherlock urged. "Let's go out and see what it is."

The Doctor slowly nodded and they left the TARDIS to find themselves in a large space, designed like a museum, except that it was more cavernous, grungier, industrial, and stranger than any museum Sherlock, Rose, or John had seen. More like a warehouse with some items displayed in glass cases, and what specimens these things were.

"Are these real?" John asked, turning to the Doctor.

"They're real all right." The Doctor grimaced.

"Oh, my god." Rose murmured.

The trio of humans stared in horror at the monstrous and unusual alien heads and other body parts on display, and shivered as they avoided looking at the Doctor's aggrieved, disgusted face. They understood that he felt like he had just walked into a slaughterhouse with the prized trophies of slain beings he might know about stuffed and mounted for the world to look at, except no one was here but them to mourn the dead.

"Why would they create such a museum, full of such specimens, if no one comes to see it? What kind of collection is this?" Sherlock murmured.

Sherlock examined the specimens behind their glass cases as much as he was able to, only able to visually inspect the specimens from a remove to figure out how they had been killed. This was a crime scene as far as he was concerned. He cursed that he could not simply break the glass cases and physically handle or manipulate the remains for a better analysis.

Yet the museum nature of this setting prevented him from doing so when he might alert some guards and damage one of the specimens. He was aware of the Doctor's sensitivity to this particular crime in the nature of the victims. This was a delicate, difficult matter to handle or be part of, yet he could do it if he wanted to or was allowed to.

"A petty, vain collection." The Doctor said, sighing. "It's not so much for other people to look at and learn from as it is to say this is what we have found, destroyed, and taken for our own."

"What type of a museum is this?" Rose asked. "Who would do all of this?"

"Who do you think?" The Doctor asked, shaking his head. "Apes. Humans created this museum."

"Where are we, Doctor? And when?" John asked.

Then the Doctor revealed that they were below ground in Utah in 2012, further horrifying the humans. This was happening practically in their own present time on their planet, and no one knew anything about it, except for those who had gathered and stored these items and specimens, and they weren't doing much beyond keeping these remains and things for themselves.

"Did humans…kill…?" Rose started to ask, nervous about how the Doctor might react and ashamed about what people like her had done to these alien creatures.

"Not all of them." Sherlock muttered. "Most of these specimens and items show heavy trauma scars and markings with some post-mortem cutting. They probably crashed on this planet, and maybe expired before their remains were recovered from the wreckage. Some appear to have no visible wounds beyond post-mortem cutting, possibly expiring from natural causes. The rest, though, do show signs of scars and wounds that might have been inflicted by human weapons, leading to their deaths. I'm sorry, Doctor." Sherlock remembered to say.

"Don't even talk to me." The Doctor said, wandering off to stare at one item in particular.

John grimaced at Sherlock, knowing his lover was only trying to solve the crime of what had happened here and impart that information to them to dispel or inform whatever doubts or questions they might have. But he still wished that Sherlock could have done a better job of divulging such information to the Doctor, maybe even to the point of withholding some indelicate details until later.

Sherlock could be too bloody thoughtless and honest at times. Sometimes it paid to be more careful, discreet, and bloody considerate at times, even humane. Although now John started to wonder if such a term could apply to any of the humans that had created this museum; probably not. John turned around to apologize to the Doctor as well, when he saw what the Doctor was looking at and his eyes widened, recognizing the item from the UNIT files.

"Is that a Cyberman's head?" John asked.

Sherlock, who had been inordinately quiet since the Doctor had brushed him off, maybe to the point of being ashamed or exasperated with his common behavior in reporting his analysis of a crime scene, turned to stare at the item in question with his full-blown curiosity renewed. Sherlock smiled to himself for a moment as he stared at the Cyberman head, for after having extensively reviewed the UNIT files and even gone searching through the TARDIS library for more tomes related to extraterrestrial life, had gotten more than a passing understanding of such extraterrestrial beings.

And even though the Cybermen were, more often than not, referred to as villains, he found himself inordinately fond of them, or at least accounts of how the Doctor and his friends had vanquished such Cybermen and other foes in the past. It was another time, he knew, truly before the Time War and the destruction of Gallifrey and the Time Lords when the Doctor had been an adventurer, explorer, and fighter of evil.

That had changed, Sherlock knew the Doctor and the universe had changed, perhaps irrecoverable forever, and there might never be a way of recapturing that legendary past. He feared the Doctor would never be such a hero again and that he and John would never experience such amazing adventures as the Doctor's past companions had, for the monsters were gone forever. The Slitheen certainly weren't the Cybermen and nothing that Sherlock had experienced so far could compare with his perception of such legends. Even the Doctor admitted that he was old, having lived so long to see one of his old foes being preserved in a museum, a symbol of the past.

"What's a Cyberman?" Rose asked.

Sherlock and John both were about to explain, but the Doctor cut them both off, not really explaining what it was, though. Sherlock and John stewed, wondering why the Doctor would keep her in the dark, as Rose asked if the distress signal came from the Cyberman's head, which reminded the two fellows of why they were there in the first place.

"It's one of these aliens." Sherlock murmured, glancing around. "One of them must be here, maybe still alive. That's how that signal reached us from this time and place."

"Exactly." The Doctor said, nodding. "We're going to rescue it before it becomes the next specimen in this horrible museum."

"Or before you do." John murmured as guards flooded into the museum to surround them.

* * *

They all held their arms up as they were marched out of the museum, away from the TARDIS once more, which always unnerved John whenever they were separated from the vehicle that could get them safely out of here. Part of John sometimes wondered if the TARDIS could feel or sense that separation between itself and the Doctor, projecting an aura of nervousness or distress to the Doctor and others.

It probably was a ridiculous thought, although John could not entirely dismiss it for some reason. The vessel was sentient, as far as John was aware, so maybe it wasn't entirely nonsensical to project such feelings upon it. In a way, it made the TARDIS seem friendlier somehow, yet still completely alien, much like the Doctor. John hoped the Doctor wouldn't stay mad at them, or Sherlock in particular.

The guards propelled them down a corridor, probably to meet the mastermind behind this horrendous place, which had become a regular enough occurrence that Sherlock expected such a thing. The guards didn't really talk to them, although Sherlock and the others heard radio chatter about Bad Wolf One landing, which caused Sherlock to frown.

He had heard that phrase before, Bad Wolf, in different times and places, although he wasn't certain if it meant anything or if it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was just coincidence, although it seemed to fit the definition of whoever created this museum. Bad Wolf, the evil hunter who stalked and trapped his prey, dragging back the carcass to put on display for his personal admiration.

Yes, for some reason, Sherlock felt like he might find some answer to the meaning of the phrase 'Bad Wolf' here in this underground base, which he hoped would solve the dilemma of such a mystery plaguing him without an obvious answer. Yet when they met Henry Van Statten who owned this place and the collection inside of it, Sherlock despaired of finding an answer here when he wasn't certain if the man was a mastermind or even had a mind of his own.

He seemed crude, rude, and brazenly idiotic in his own way, not to mention lewd and vulgar toward Rose, a sleezeball in most ways. He might be rich enough to own the Internet, which caused even Sherlock to raise an eyebrow, and build this elaborate underground base and fill it full of alien junk, specimens, and items he had recovered and bought to fill his museum, but it was ultimately a monument to his own self-worth, power, vanity and stupidity.

For Van Statten didn't understand anything, it seemed, about the alien items he possessed, and instead relied upon the intelligence of experts like that Adam boy to determine and assess the value and worth of these alien objects as collector items. He couldn't appreciate them on their own merits. And then he and the Doctor practically got into a fight, with Rose quipping about the testosterone in the room.

"Doctor, you can do better than give in to this cheap posturing and one-upmanship." Sherlock remarked, rolling his eyes. "It's beneath you, don't stoop to his level."

"He started it." The Doctor muttered. "And it's the sort of language he understands. He doesn't appreciate the finer things in life, the beauty of the delicate instrument he tossed aside like cheap garbage. And he doesn't understand the horror of what he's done, displaying the remains of those beings like trophies when they should at least be given a decent burial. So yeah, I'm going to talk to him however I feel like and I want you to stay out of it. Got me?"

"Crystal clear." Sherlock murmured, realizing the Doctor had not recovered from his shock and anger at seeing this museum to deal sensibly with humans of any sort. He was openly hostile to those he saw as aggressors, including Henry Van Statten and Sherlock Holmes.

When Van Statten offered to show the Doctor the creature inside his cage, the Doctor slowly nodded, thinking this might be what had sent the distress signal. He asked Van Statten if he could take John, a medical doctor, with him to examine the creature, which John agreed to since he might be able to help out in saving the being.

When Sherlock offered his service to come along with them, the Doctor shook his head and said, "Stay here, watch out for Rose and Adam."

"What? But Doctor-" Sherlock protested.

"I don't need a babysitter." Rose muttered.

"Please." John said, turning to Sherlock. "Maybe it would be better for now to keep you two apart." The Doctor didn't say anything, irritably looking away as Rose and Adam exchanged a glance and Van Statten smugly smirked at the discordant scene.

"All right, fine. I understand." Sherlock stiffly said, not looking at John or the Doctor at the moment. "See you two later." He muttered. "Good luck, John."

"Good luck, Sherlock." John said, uncomfortable at leaving his lover like this as well.

But he felt like maybe Sherlock should take a step back, away from the Doctor until the Time Lord had recovered from his fury and dismay to deal equitably with his companions and humans in general. At least the Doctor didn't seem to have as much of a grievance with John as he currently had with Sherlock, although John could not really think why. Probably because Sherlock had talked too much in a manner that had provoked the Time Lord.

So the group parted with the Doctor and John following after Van Statten to the cage to see his creature and Rose and Sherlock staying behind with Adam, reluctantly in Sherlock's case, to look at the alien objects Adam had collected. Henry Van Statten told the Doctor and John about 'Metaltron' as he called the creature, which caused a couple of raised eyebrows from the Doctor and John, and not to touch it without wearing gloves.

John slipped on the gloves, though the Doctor didn't deign to do so, saying he probably wouldn't even touch it. John mentally berated Sherlock for getting in trouble with the Doctor by getting on his bad side, wishing that his lover was here with them when Sherlock would probably be better adept at handling the alien creature.

For some reason, John felt nervous, like they really were getting into the cage with a monster instead of a hurt, wounded being or creature. He didn't know what they were dealing with, after all. The air of mystery surrounding this being was starting to get to him, though Sherlock probably would be thrilled about this whole experience. Now he really wished Sherlock could be here, when Sherlock's thrill of the chase and solving a mystery was infectious enough to excite John as well. He was just plain terrified at the moment.

The Doctor and John entered the cage, the door closing behind them, a dark room with the lights currently turned off when it might take a while for them to power on. There was just a blue glow coming from the far end of the room, possibly powered or projected by the creature itself.

John nervously hung back, clutching at a bag of medical supplies one of Van Statten's hired scientists had handed over to him. He glanced down at the instruments currently set out on a medical tray close by and shivered to himself, feeling like this was a medieval torture chamber or haunted house room.

The Doctor stepped forward, talking to Metaltron and introducing himself, at which point the alien creature finally spoke out in low, clipped tones, robotic yet with a screech in them that seemed inhuman and monstrous, "DOC-TOR…THE DOC-TOR?" with two tubular lights flashing above the blue light as it spoke. John blinked, almost recognizing the thing that spoke, yet he could not quite process the image quite yet, still in the dark.

The Doctor gasped and retreated as lights flared on in an ugly, harsh glare that fully revealed the alien creature to both of them in all of its hideous pepperpot glory with a dome-shaped head topped by tubular light stalks, an eyestalk sticking out, an oval-shaped skirt protruding forth, covered in little balls, and a plunger and death-ray gun sticking out from its body. At the same time it shouted, "EX-TERMINATE!" repeatedly with all of the force and vitriol it could muster, leaving John gasping in terror like he was having a heart-attack.

"Oh my god, it's a Dalek!" John cried out in fear, raising his medical bag up like a shield, as if that could protect him from the Dalek's death ray or whatever it used. Yet he knew it couldn't save him, not now. "Sherlock." He whispered, wincing as he closed his eyes and braced himself for death.

"Let us out!" The Doctor cried, pounding on the door of the cage in terror, reliving all of his worst nightmares in that moment as he was about to die, certain the Dalek was coming to get him, and John was going to die in here with him. That was the worst part of it all, he realized, leading one of his friends to his death.


	16. The Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction:
> 
> Sorry about not updating in a couple of weeks and that this is another relatively short chapter, but I did struggle a bit with this chapter, even though I had one or two ideas. Eventually I was able to come up with a new twist to lead back to the old format, strange as that is. Series 8 finale coming up soon on TV, yay!

"How can the Doctor be angry at me?" Sherlock muttered to himself, still nursing that sore as he, Rose, and Adam headed towards Adam's lab, straight out of Van Statten's office.

They were being relegated to playing with the objects that Van Statten had collected while the Doctor and John got to meet and possibly rescue a trapped alien. It didn't seem fair, now that Sherlock had gotten a moment to think about it. But then again, nothing was fair today.

"Sherlock, please let it go." Rose told him, glancing back. "I'm sure he'll be fine in a short while. Just give him a chance to think and relax a bit. Maybe things will be better once we leave here."

"I suppose so, but I am worried that he won't be fine with me." Sherlock said, looking up at her. "This could be a bad sign for things to come. I was only analyzing the situation as I saw it and he lashed out at me, just because I was indelicate on what might be a personal matter? I suppose I was blunt, but I cannot always soften the tone or language of my deductions, especially when dealing with brutal crimes. I would rather present the evidence as plainly as possible so that-anyone can understand it than have my deductions misconstrued or misunderstood." He was going to say 'morons', but at least he had managed to soften his language there.

"I know the feeling." Adam muttered to himself, nodding. "People can't understand you sometimes, so you have to find a way of talking to them in their own language."

"Exactly, and I really do wish we didn't have anything like that in common." Sherlock muttered, causing Adam to glare at him.

Rose sighed. "You really do need a refresher on manners, don't you?" She murmured, shaking her head.

"I am a detective, this is what I do." Sherlock said. "I consult with the police to help them solve crimes and when I do see evidence that a crime has taken place, no matter where or when, I am obliged to investigate and analyze the evidence at hand and solve the puzzle. I cannot ignore what I see and I will disclose everything as well, it is part of what I do. If the Doctor cannot accept that, then he does not accept me, and I am afraid that he will not want me around."

"That's cool." Adam said, nodding. "You know, I once thought about being a detective, but-"

"Why are you talking to me?" Sherlock asked, causing Adam to gape at him.

"You really can't shut it off?" Rose asked, turning around to glare at the detective.

"I cannot and the Doctor blames me, just because I remark upon and describe what one man and his cronies have done, destroying, decimating, and displaying dozens if not hundreds of alien parts and artifacts." Sherlock said. "Am I really to blame here, or are people like Van Statten and his assistant Adam to blame for their actions?"

"Hey, don't blame me." Adam said, turning around to face Sherlock. "I would rather not be responsible for mishandling these alien artifacts and specimens, if that is what the Doctor and you blame us for. But I don't do anything to harm any of these alien creatures and we don't know anything about these things that we find. So how can we find out more about any of these specimens and artifacts if we don't handle them somehow, even if that means displaying as well as caring for them?"

"Then don't handle them. Simple as that." Sherlock said. "Walk away."

"You know we can't do that when there is a mystery to be solved here, a puzzle." Adam said. "I know the feeling, detective."

Sherlock growled as they entered Adam's lab. With Adam and Rose busy discussing the possibilities of alien life and the objects Van Statten had collected, Sherlock stalked and browsed through Adam's lab. He was bored and annoyed with this creepy boy genius who was nothing more than a runt and a nut like Van Statten.

Adam even flirted with Rose, who kidded right back at him, though concealing the truth of her knowledge on alien life. She was right to be so cautious, Sherlock felt, as Adam was the sort of person who would take advantage of any sort of knowledge he could gain, just like Van Statten.

Adam was nothing like Sherlock. Or the Doctor for that matter, despite Rose's comparison, as Adam laughed about nearly starting World War Three, something the Doctor would never joke about. Sherlock mimicked Adam's laugh as Rose glanced between them, obviously picking up on the tension, but she tried not to comment on it. Instead, Rose asked about the alien creature down below and Adam admitted that he had the ability to hack into communication surveillance.

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" Sherlock asked, turning around to face Adam. "Instead of bothering with all this mess, why didn't you show it to us in the first place?"

"It doesn't do anything, it's useless, just a giant pepper pot." Adam insisted.

"A pepper pot?" Sherlock snapped, annoyed and nervous as he recognized the reference and got the feeling this was important. "Show us." So Adam logged in, and revealed the scene.

* * *

"It's a Dalek? Whoo-hoo, I don't even know what that means, but it sounds great." Henry Van Statten smiled, practically clapping as he stared at the screen. "Why are they all cowering in fear like that?" He referred to John and the Doctor.

"Probably think it's dangerous." His assistant Diana Goddard muttered, watching the scene as well. "Maybe they know something we don't."

"Ah, they're just a bunch of sissies." Van Statten muttered, waving off her remarks. "We've got something important here, I can tell. Thanks to the Doctor for bringing it back to life."

After a minute, the Doctor lifted his head and John lowered his medical briefcase as nothing happened; the death-ray wavered about, but it wasn't firing at them. The Doctor cried out for joy and maliciously taunted the Dalek as John stood there, dumbfounded and shocked by what had just happened and the Doctor's behavior as well. This wasn't like him, the Doctor never taunted anybody like this. Maybe Sherlock, the alien museum, and the Dalek really had put him on edge.

"Maybe we should get out of here." John muttered, glancing back at the door.

"Don't be so afraid, it can't harm us now." The Doctor wickedly grinned at the Dalek. "It can't harm any one of us now, the last of the Daleks."

* * *

"A Dalek." Sherlock muttered as Adam and Rose watched the scene in horrified fascination, the Doctor's smirk and anger ugly and grotesque in its own way.

"What is that thing?" Rose asked.

"A killer. A monster. The Doctor's faced those Daleks dozens of times, according to the accounts." Sherlock said, Rose and Adam staring at him. "The ultimate war machine, and the Doctor and John are right in there. We've got to save them." He was prepared to rush off in that moment, certain of the danger they were in, but Adam's words brought him up short.

"It's like a comic-book supervillain showdown." Adam whispered in awe, never expecting anything like this to happen to him, although he could dream.

"Shut up, Anderson, it's nothing like that!" Sherlock cried, turning back to him. "This is real."

"Anderson?" Both Rose and Adam said, confused.

However, before Sherlock could set off, the Doctor spoke about wiping out all of the Daleks, startling everybody listening and watching the scene. "The Doctor did that?" Rose asked. "How could he-" and then the Dalek asked about the Time Lords, and the Doctor revealed the end of the Last Great Time War.

"The Daleks and the Time Lords…so that was what happened." Sherlock muttered, pausing in mid-stride as he mused over this news. "I always figured it would have to be a big, powerful enemy to face and almost destroy all of the Time Lords, but I never imagined it would be Daleks."

"But the Doctor did that." Rose muttered, gazing up at Sherlock. "He wiped them all out. The Dalek said 'you destroyed us'. Was it referring to the Time Lords, the Doctor's own people, as well?"

"I don't know." Sherlock said, staring back at Rose. "But I did wonder why he was the one who survived, how it happened."

At that point, the Dalek told the Doctor, 'we are the same', which caused John to shiver. He was appalled at everything he had learned about the Doctor as well, the hint of the larger role the Doctor might have played in ending the Time War. Yet seeing the Doctor face-to-face with one of his old enemies, the Daleks, and learning about their role in the Time War made John curl up his fists and grimace.

He had always wondered what he would do if he was ever confronted with a former enemy combatant, face to face, if they could even speak to each on friendly or neutral terms or if they would always fight. John did not know how he would react if such was the case, but here and now he could feel the anger, disgust, and sorrow boiling up inside the Doctor, threatening to spill out in a simmering rage.

John felt that way as well, sometimes, whenever he thought about his own wartime experiences; even though he was addicted to the thrill of fighting and danger, that didn't mean he didn't feel differently about it at times. He thought he could understand some of the Doctor's feelings on this matter, how troubled he was about what he had experienced and done. And he was worried about the Doctor, how overwhelming those conflicting feelings might be for him in this moment, face-to-face with his enemy and what he had done as well, and how or when or if he would explode.

And the Dalek…John was nervous and uncertain about the way the Dalek acted. This wasn't characteristic of the Daleks, as far as he was aware of. This was something different and bizarre, not like one of the old Daleks from the old UNIT reports. This was something else as well, different yet still the same, just like the Doctor. They really were tied together, John realized.

* * *

"A matchup of supervillains." Adam was saying in Adam's lab, causing Sherlock to groan.

"Will you please shut up, Anderson?" Sherlock said. "The Doctor is not a supervillain and this is not a comic book."

"Why do you keep calling me Anderson? Stop saying that!" Adam cried. "My name is-"

"Anderson." Sherlock snapped, turning to Adam. "That's who you remind me of, Anderson! The worst forensic scientist New Scotland Yard ever hired, my bane and nemesis! Next to Mycroft and maybe Moriarty, of course."

Adam gaped at him and Rose gasped, stifling a laugh, as she couldn't help finding the humor in Sherlock's frustration with Adam, despite the stressful situation they were all in. Meanwhile, the Doctor said, 'exterminate' and unleashed an electrical charge, shocking and torturing the Dalek as it cried out for pity.

John shook his head, startled out of his reverie and contemplation then by such an uncharacteristic move on the Doctor's part, as he cried, "Doctor, we have got to go!"

"But I was just getting started." The Doctor said when the guards, Van Statten, and Goddard rushed into the cage to escort the Doctor and John out of there.

The Doctor was shouting about all of them being in danger, but John couldn't help wondering if the Doctor really was going insane. Van Statten confronted the Dalek, trying to get it to talk again. When it didn't respond, he ordered Simmons to torture the alien, but John didn't see what happened next as he was taken to the lift and shoved inside next to the Doctor.

"Are you okay?" John asked the Doctor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" The Doctor asked.

"Yeah, me too, but next time warn me before you go crazy." John told the Doctor, who harshly laughed as Van Statten got into the lift just behind them. The Doctor launched into a lecture about the Daleks to Van Statten, which interested John until he learned that Van Statten wanted the Doctor now.

"Hey, hey, leave him alone!" John shouted, kicking and struggling against the guards who were pulling and pushing the Doctor out of the lift towards the detention center. Then one of the guards electrocuted John with a stun gun to quiet him, causing him to curl up in pain.

"John, stand down!" The Doctor shouted at him before turning to Van Statten as he said, "I'll come quietly if you leave John alone."

Van Statten rolled his eyes and said, "All right, let the ponce go. Maybe give him and his friends their marching orders. Where did they go?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Rose grimaced as she watched the Doctor torturing the Dalek, disturbed by the Doctor's behavior, yet helpless to comfort and confront him somehow about what had occurred to him. And for some reason, she did feel pity for the monstrous Dalek, despite what its people had done to destroy the Time Lords.

She didn't feel like it was fair to lock up and torture such a being, no matter what it had done. There was a chance that the Dalek's own sorrow and plea for pity was genuine, after all. Perhaps it had changed and didn't deserve such suffering.

Sherlock watched the Dalek's torture without pity, thinking the monster deserved such punishment, although he was concerned about what was happening with his friend and lover. "Where are they taking John and the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, facing Adam.

Adam shrugged. "Probably to the detention center, although the Doctor…he really is an alien?" Adam asked.

"Yes, he—oh. Van Statten knows." Sherlock growled. "And Van Statten always likes to dissect his aliens."

"We've got to get them out of there." Rose murmured, standing up as well and following after Sherlock.

"Adam, you can come with us and bring your laptop." Sherlock remarked, turning to the young assistant and using his name properly. "You're so good at hacking into anything. Perhaps you might be able to find a way of freeing John and the Doctor?"

"Why should I help you?" Adam asked, frowning at Sherlock. "You were insulting-"

"Please, Adam, for me?" Rose asked, cozying up to him. "And maybe I can get you inside the TARDIS, the Doctor's spaceship, for a trip?"

Adam lit up. "Really? You would?"

"Oh, no." Sherlock groaned.

"I'll do it." Adam nodded. "Especially if it will shut him up." He eyed Sherlock.

"Come on, pretty boy Adam." Sherlock grumbled as they set off to save the Doctor and John. "Why did you invite him on board the TARDIS?" Sherlock hissed at Rose as they were walking along towards the lift.

"What choice did I have? We need him." Rose said.

"We don't need him that much." Sherlock said. "I could have probably broken John and the Doctor out of there without too much trouble, maybe by disabling the guards and the security system. I only invited Adam to make things a little easier."

"Admit it, you're just bragging and you don't know this place or its security system as well as Adam does." Rose said. "It probably would have taken you too long or you might have been overwhelmed. That's why you invited him, for his extra brainpower."

"All right, fine, I admit it." Sherlock grumbled as they rounded a corner to meet a guard standing by the lift.

"There you two are." The guard nodded, staring at Sherlock and Rose before turning to Adam. "I will escort these two the rest-"

Sherlock punched out the guard before pinching one of the nerves on his neck to thoroughly distract, disable, and knock out the guard. Adam and Rose gawked at the sight before Adam groaned. "No, no, this is all wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen. What are we going to do now?"

"Going directly to the detention center might be out of the question now unless we wind up like John and the Doctor." Sherlock murmured, glancing at Adam and Rose. "We have to come up with a new plan. Find a place to hide and regroup, figure out how to negotiate their release or break into the detention center without being caught."

"I've got an idea." Rose said, staring up at Adam and Sherlock. "Let's break into the cage and free the Dalek."

"What?" Both Adam and Sherlock said, staring at her in shock.

"It's a bargaining tool. We threaten to unleash the Dalek on all of them unless they allow us to go free in the TARDIS." Rose said.

"This is an insane plan, isn't it?" Adam asked.

"It might work." Sherlock said, staring at Rose appreciatively. "If handled the right way. We have to get into the cage first, maybe lock ourselves in so that no one can stop us, and then make our demands with the threat." He pressed the lift button.

"But we'll be trapped in there with the Dalek, who isn't armed, and if it was armed, it would probably kill us according to your story, right?" Adam asked Sherlock as they waited for the lift. "I don't know how we can threaten Van Statten that way into giving in to our demands. We may be locked in a stalemate here."

"Not necessarily." Sherlock murmured as the lift arrived. "We'll have to talk to the Dalek first."

"Are you insane or some kind of psychopath?" Adam asked as Sherlock and Rose stepped into the lift.

"High-functioning sociopath. There is a difference. Keep up, Anderson, unless you want to get caught." Sherlock murmured and Adam hurried into the lift before the doors closed.

"I hate you." Adam said, pressing the button for the cage level.

"I know the feeling." Sherlock said as they headed down.

* * *

They arrived at the cage level and Adam showed his security pass, hoping that the message about apprehending Sherlock and Rose hadn't reached that level yet. He came up with a fake story that they were ordered to check on the Dalek and see how it was faring and if its weapons system could be detached as soon as possible.

"Van Statten doesn't like delays." Adam remarked, hoping the security guard wouldn't call his supervisor to check out his story. There were so many things that could go wrong here, he was already seeing the prison cell he would wind up in.

The guard on duty briefly scanned Adam's security pass and, though wary of the two strangers, he assumed their story was correct and allowed them inside the cage. Sherlock barred the door from the inside while Rose looked over at the Dalek, unnoticed by the other two guys. Adam was in such a state of shock and relieved that their plan had worked that he didn't hear Sherlock calling him over.

"Adam. Adam. Anderson." Sherlock hissed, grabbing Adam's arm and tugging him over to the workstation just below the security camera. "Set up your laptop over here. Maybe do some kind of base-wide lockdown that no one except us can unlock. We'll make sure no one can get in or out, hold the whole base hostage this way." He grinned, twiddling his fingers together.

"You're enjoying this!" Adam accused, yet he was already setting up his laptop and starting the base lockdown procedure.

"So what if I am? It's not like things can get any worse than they are now." Sherlock commented before he noticed that Rose was talking to the Dalek, which told her that it was dying, although she was a little too close to the Dalek for his taste. Sherlock frowned as he approached them and said, "Rose, how about we take a step back here, away from-"

However as Rose laid a hand on the Dalek to comfort it, and Sherlock accidentally found himself touching the Dalek as well in his attempt to pull her away, the Dalek seemed to light up and regain a spark of life, screeching about some kind of genetic code before it strained and broke its chains. Adam panicked at the Dalek's revitalization and abandoned his laptop and raced over to the cage door to unlock it.

Sherlock and Rose backed up in horror as Rose said, "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What about you?" Sherlock accused, but as Simmons the Dalek's keeper entered the cage to contain and control the Dalek again, the Dalek faced Simmons with its plunger and suckered him to death, a terrifying sight.

"What have we done?" Sherlock murmured as they retreated and the guards started firing at the Dalek. One of the guards, a woman named di Maggio, raced off after the civilians.


	17. Towards the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction:
> 
> Finally finished 'Dalek', working on this chapter off and on for a couple of weeks now. Series 8 has ended, but 'Last Christmas' is coming, who knows what will happen then? I find myself incorporating some details here and there about the Doctor being a soldier, with that influence, and I read 'About Time 7: Unauthorized Guide to Doctor Who Series 1 & 2' awhile ago, which has inspired me in terms of a couple of their theories in regards to this episode and the series in general.

"Where are you taking me?" John asked, staring around at the guards escorting him out of the lift as he threw one last backwards glance at the Doctor, still heavily guarded inside the lift with Van Statten and his assistant Diana Goddard standing nearby as the lift doors closed. In that moment, he feared this might be the last time he saw the Time Lord, his head held high and resolute with the hint of a desperate, manic twinge to his lips, before the alien was lost in Van Statten's repository.

"You heard Van Statten, we're taking you and your friends out of here." The guard said, turning back to Watson. "Standard operating procedure, wipe your memories and leave you stranded miles away from here so that you can't spill any of Van Statten's secrets."

"What? No, no, take me back downstairs!" John cried. "Take me back to that museum of alien artifacts. My friends and I, we need to get something, we left something behind down there." He insisted. They had to at least get the TARDIS out of there, if they could figure out how to pilot the alien vessel, so that it wouldn't fall into the hands of Van Statten. And maybe they could figure out a way of saving the Doctor as well.

"No can do, complete opposite direction of where we're going." The guard insisted. "We're heading this way, up and out towards the light."

John struggled and tried to run away again, but they stunned him and forced him to keep moving again, heading towards a processing center where fired employees' memories were wiped. John was slightly disturbed at the idea that firing and wiping away the memories of Van Statten's employees must be a common enough occurrence that they had developed it into a system, but then again, everything that had happened here today so far had disturbed him and the Doctor to a tremendous degree. It wasn't every day they confronted the last living Dalek, after all.

He wondered just what he would or wouldn't remember when they wiped his memories, if he would forget about Sherlock or the Doctor or Rose. Would he remember anything about who he was? Would he be left out like a bum on the street somewhere in the United States? Good grief, he didn't exactly know—suddenly, as John was about to face the memory wipe machine, alarms rang and lights flashed throughout the underground base.

The soldiers and technician in charge of the machine halted, nervously glancing around as well and let go of John, who stepped back from the machine, shuddering. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to face the device for the moment, but now he was wondering what was going on here.

"Full alert, all personnel, I repeat, full alert." A woman announced over the speakers. "This base is under lockdown. The cage has been breached. I repeat, the cage has been breached and we are under attack."

"The Dalek." John breathed, staring at the others. "You have to let us go. The Doctor is the only one who can handle this. You have to let him go!" He cried.

* * *

A few minutes later, John was escorted back to Van Statten's office, and breathed a sigh of relief to see the Doctor standing there, checking out the situation on the monitor and trying to organize an armed response to the Dalek.

"How's it going? Are you all right?" John asked, approaching and examining the Doctor as best he could for any sign of harm or pain, if Van Statten had tortured him.

He couldn't tell if the Doctor had been wounded, although he appeared to be tired and even more wan and worn than he had been before. John grimaced at Van Statten across the room, the man was frantic, but still smug and sure of himself, as if he expected everything to be all right. John couldn't believe that the Doctor might still be helping the man who had tortured and threatened him, but with a Dalek loose, perhaps priorities should be different right now.

"Now's not the best time for this, but I'm fine. How about you?" The Doctor said, grinning at John before he went back to business.

John was slightly reassured, hoping everything might still be all right, although he feared it was a false hope. And he worried about the Doctor as well, falling back into the routine of a commander, probably still fighting the Time War in his mind. This had to be a step backwards for him from whatever progress he might have been making in forgetting or at least releasing his memories of the Time War.

"How did the Dalek escape?" John asked, uneasy.

"Your friends helped." Diana Goddard pointed out, showing them security footage of Sherlock, Rose, and Adam inside the vault with the Dalek just as it broke its chains, shocking the pair.

"Sherlock is really getting on my nerves now." The Doctor muttered in a dark, threatening way.

"Rose had a hand in it, too, literally." John remarked, trying to pacify the Doctor's rage towards his lover. "It looks like Sherlock was trying to stop her. I don't understand this, what is going on here?"

"DNA extrapolation, of course." The Doctor muttered, staring at the footage. "It burned whoever touched it because it was trying to get the DNA sample of a time traveler to revive its technological capabilities. One of the easiest ways for Daleks to access and use stolen time travel technology, as well as revive themselves, during the Time War was to extract Time Lord DNA from their prisoners before they were executed."

"So they revived it?" John asked, gobsmacked. "Just by traveling through time and space in the TARDIS, Sherlock and Rose had enough of that power in their DNA to revive the Dalek?"

"Time travel can be a powerful thing." The Doctor shrugged and then frowned as he saw the Dalek accessing the laptop Adam left behind, using it to download power from the electricity grid and then the internet, apparently literally.

"The internet?" John gaped. "It's downloading the whole damn internet! That's insane! Why would it do such a thing?"

"It's trying to find out information of any sort," The Doctor muttered to himself, and frowned. "But how? How did it know what the internet was for? It must have found the internet connection somewhere, accessing a worldwide network of mainframes and servers, but to go straight for it means that the information about the internet was hardwired into him." His eyes widened and he gasped. "Oh, no, no, don't tell me it got...how could it?"

"What are you talking about?" John asked him.

"Nothing or something, doesn't matter at this point." The Doctor muttered, shaking his head. "We just have to deal with it."

* * *

"Wait a minute!" di Maggio cried, chasing after Sherlock, Rose, and Adam. "Where are you three going? What did you do? What did you do?"

"We freed it, all right!" Sherlock shouted, facing the soldier. "We freed the Dalek and now all that's left to do is run, because that's the only way to survive this thing! Run, until the Doctor figures a way out of this mess we're in!" Rose and Adam cowered back, afraid of what was going to happen next.

Di Maggio growled. "This is all your fault, you coward. One man is already dead, more will probably die, and you're leaving us to deal with your mess?" She griped her gun tighter, and leveled it towards Sherlock. "I ought to kill you for what's happening now."

Sherlock grimaced and closed his eyes, prepared to face that fate, when Rose stepped in front of him and told di Maggio, "I'm sorry, okay? We're both sorry. It's all of our faults. Adam helped us out as well."

Sherlock inched his eyes open, surprised that Rose would stand up for him and face such a threat, taking responsibility for her actions as well. She really was quite brave, he realized. Di Maggio hesitated, not quite certain what to think about what was going on here, as she began to lower her weapon.

"Hey, I'm not with them!" Adam cried, retreating to avoid di Maggio's gun.

"Anderson, you coward." Sherlock coldly muttered. "I'm sorry as well." He managed to tell di Maggio. He wasn't used to apologizing, but now might be the best and most deserved time to extend such a deference.

"My name is Adam!" Adam shouted.

"Quiet." Di Maggio said, lowering her gun all the way and glancing around. "It's coming. Let's head for the stairs." She said, running off with the others catching up with her.

"The stairs?" Sherlock gaped at her as they entered the stairwell and climbed. "Do you honestly believe the stairs would stop an intergalactic conqueror who's killed and destroyed more peoples and worlds than you can possibly imagine? It can probably hover or fly. Maybe with miniature rockets or something like that." Rose felt like laughing at the last bit, although now wasn't a good time for that.

"Oh, we're all going to die." Adam shuddered, shaking his head.

Di Maggio hesitated as they kept climbing and said, "Well, we can at least try to get away from it. Maybe get out of the base and lock it down in here, if at all possible."

"It'll probably get out." Sherlock shook his head. "Hardly anything will stop a Dalek from what I've heard, except for the Doctor."

"Well, where is he, then?" Rose cried, frantic. "Where is the Doctor to help us out? He's probably still locked up, John as well, helpless!"

"No, not even Van Statten would be so foolish and dumb!" Sherlock cried. "He probably freed the Doctor at least once he realized what was going on. You can probably call the Doctor-and we are nitwits." Sherlock slapped his forehead. "Our phones! Call them!"

"Right, I'll ring up the Doctor, in case he's still mad at you." Rose said, pulling out her mobile and dialing as she ran.

"I know the feeling well!" Adam cried.

"Shut up, Anderson!" Sherlock cried, getting out his mobile to contact John, although he was relieved that he wouldn't have to talk to the Doctor right now.

* * *

Both mobiles rang inside Van Statten's office, Van Statten and his assistant turning their heads as the Doctor and John checked and quickly answered, "Rose!" "Sherlock!"

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean for anything like this to happen." Rose told the Doctor, still running as di Maggio herded them out of the stairwell into a warehouse area on a higher level. "It was just a ruse to save you and John!"

Sherlock said pretty much the same to John, glancing around at all of the soldiers and scientists running about the warehouse area, arming themselves and taking up firing positions. "John, this is probably pretty much the worst idea we could have possibly had, but we meant well."

"You shouldn't have done it." The Doctor muttered, shaking his head.

"Meaning well is not the same as doing good!" John groaned.

"You're right, you're right." Both Sherlock and Rose said, glancing at each other as well, abashed as di Maggio herded them and Adam out of the warehouse.

But then di Maggio hesitated to follow them as she saw her fellow soldiers getting ready to fight, and heard her commander telling someone over the radio that they could fight a tin robot. They didn't know what they were getting into, she realized, and they might need every gun they could get to stop this thing.

She told Adam and the others, "Keep going, keep heading out of here. I need to stay behind and help!" She took up a firing position along with the rest of the soldiers.

"She's going to get herself killed." Sherlock said, shaking his head as they exited out of the room.

Just then, the Dalek entered and spotted them. Even Sherlock was disturbed by the knowing glance the Dalek seemed to direct towards them before they got away. Rose mentioned her uneasiness over the phone to the Doctor as well as to Adam and Sherlock. Sherlock didn't mention his own premonition as it was probably nothing. But back in Van Statten's office, the Doctor raised his head, staring at the security feed from the warehouse.

"It's got your DNA, yours and Sherlock's from when you both touched it." The Doctor told Rose. "I don't know exactly what that means, but maybe it's nothing or something."

"Is that what you were worried about before?" John questioned the Doctor, but he didn't say anything.

Rose gaped and hung up as she told Adam and Sherlock what the Doctor had said. Sherlock frowned and said, "I'm not superstitious enough to believe in voodoo or blood magic, but even I find it oddly disconcerting that thing has a piece of me inside of it." He had not hung up on his phone, however. John could still hear him on the other end as he could hear John.

"It's just DNA." Adam insisted, shaking his head. "Just strands of molecules. This Dalek can't do anything with that sort of genetic material, can it?"

"But our DNA might have brought it back to life." Sherlock muttered to Rose. "We really did revive it to its current state."

"No." Rose said, shaking her head. "I can't believe this is our fault. We haven't really done anything, have we?"

"Let's just get out of here!" Adam insisted, and they started running again as they heard guns firing behind them. Guns that continued until they were silenced. The trio tried to escape their fear and blame, the guilt they had over the people, including di Maggio, left behind to die while they continued on, but they couldn't escape the unstoppable Dalek forever. They had to keep climbing.

* * *

"She hung up on me." The Doctor said, staring aghast at the phone. "Why did she hang up on me?"

But then John watched, horrified, along with Van Statten, Diana Godard, and the Doctor as the Dalek, unperturbed by the bullets fired at it, hovered and then electrocuted all of the soldiers and scientists left in the warehouse. It didn't even flinch, just stared down at all of the dead and dying, and John shivered at such a cold, relentless, unfeeling being. What was this monster?

"John? John, what is happening?" Sherlock asked, realizing something was wrong.

"I'll call you back." John managed to say, hanging up on Sherlock when he still could not process what was happening. Sherlock guessed what was wrong, though, and did not attempt to contact John again.

The Doctor grimaced as he glanced over at John, not wanting him to see this either, but the Doctor had gotten used to this after centuries of fighting the Daleks. Van Statten managed to recover quickly enough, insisting on their escape, but John didn't see how they could manage it. The Doctor, however, agreed on the possibility of sealing in the Dalek, an opportunity Van Statten seized upon.

"Like a tomb with the rest of us trapped inside." John murmured, shaking his head.

"Unless there is a way to escape." The Doctor added, glancing at John, wordlessly reminding him about the TARDIS.

John slowly nodded, having momentarily forgotten about it with the horror of everything going on, but now he wondered if they could reach it. Van Statten paused and looked at them, noticing something amiss, but he didn't get the chance to ask. The Dalek appeared on the screen, and spoke to them, or more correctly, the Doctor.

"I determined this was the best course of action." The Dalek said. "I determined the outcome of this action long before I carried it out. My mind has changed and expanded beyond what I have known. I can see cause and effect. I can deduce who and what these people are. I can see traces of their lives in their remains and it sickens me."

"You can't do that, can you?" The Doctor asked, staring at the Dalek as John straightened up, astonished. It sounded a lot like what Sherlock could do at times.

"I can now. Something has happened to me inside. I believe it happened when I fed off of the DNA of Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler." The Dalek said.

The Doctor chose not to comment, disregarding the news when he did not want to consider the possibilities. But John shivered at the thought of this Dalek possessing a part of Sherlock's knowledge and skills as the Dalek and the Doctor spoke about not finding any more Daleks and what this Dalek should do now. It was like Sherlock, but only a hundred—no, a thousand times worse. What this creature could do, what it had done, how much worse would it be now with so much potential skills and knowledge and absolutely no feelings?

When the Dalek asked for a command, the Doctor straightened like he was a commanding officer once more back in the Time War, and told it to die, snapping at it like a fierce drill sergeant. John stared at the Doctor in horror, not recognizing him for a moment as he saw what he must have been like during such a fight. Though he didn't quite agree with what the Dalek said about the Doctor's suitability as a Dalek, he still could see what the Daleks had done to the Doctor, breaking him down and changing him into something like a monster.

"You're not like this and you're not like them." John insisted, confronting the Doctor for a moment. "You're not."

The Doctor shook his head and went around John, issuing another order to Van Statten to seal the vault. "They're still down there!" John cried, causing the Doctor to turn back to him. "Rose and Sherlock, where are they?"

* * *

The Doctor called Rose then and told her about the situation, and she relayed that information to Sherlock and Adam, causing them both to groan. "I don't know much about this Doctor of yours, but he certainly isn't helping us much right now!" Adam cried.

"He's doing the best he can, Anderson!" Sherlock shouted. "Sometimes he has no choice. I might have done the same." He muttered.

"Adam! Adam! How hard is it for you to understand or remember-"

"Forget about it, run!" Rose panted, trying to keep up with them. So many steps, winding up and up, and they were pounding up as fast as they could, but even she could tell that she was falling fast behind, that she couldn't keep up this pace forever. Why couldn't the Doctor save them?

"Please, Doctor, please, just one second more." John begged, thinking about Rose and Sherlock dying like those soldiers did, shot down by that Dalek's ray.

But the power was fading and the other two were telling the Doctor to act. John could see the panic and fear in the Doctor's eyes, but then the indecision faded away to resignation as the Doctor pressed the button and apologized, to himself, John, Rose, Sherlock and the rest. John grimaced and looked away, unable to stand the sight of him for a moment. The Doctor felt the same way.

As Sherlock and Adam rounded the corner and saw the bulkhead falling, Sherlock spun about and saw Rose was lagging behind. "Adam, stop!" Sherlock shouted, but the other fellow kept sprinting like he was trying to make a home run. Sherlock slowed and reached out, grabbing Rose's hand to try and pull her along if he could. Adam dropped and rolled under the bulkhead door just before it slammed shut, pulling Sherlock and Rose up to a halt.

"Anderson!" Sherlock pounded on the bulkhead door as Rose tearfully sagged against it. "Anderson, if it's the last thing, I do, I'm going to kill you!"

"Please leave him alone." Rose sniffled. "It's not his fault."

"I feel like blaming him." Sherlock muttered, glancing at her. She shouldn't be here, he realized, she shouldn't die like this.

* * *

Rose and Sherlock both received calls at the same time, and reluctantly answered their phones, telling them the situation. "I can't believe this happened." Sherlock sighed. "I love you very much, John Watson." He gripped Rose's hand for comfort without his lover by his side in this moment as they turned to face the Dalek. For a moment, even Rose felt stronger and braver in the face of death with Sherlock's hand in hers. He was a true friend now.

"Don't do this to me." John huffed. "I love you, too, Sherlock Holmes." He gasped and choked back a sob as he heard the Dalek shouting and firing, dropping his phone while the Doctor looked around in disbelief and anger at Van Statten, ranting and raving.

"Doctor, please, let it go!" John shouted, shaking his head. "They're…dead, gone." He whispered, staring down at his phone as he thought he heard something on the other end. "Sherlock?" He whispered, picking up the phone and listening with some faint sign of hope. The Doctor paused and turned, listening to him.

"I don't believe it." Sherlock said, shaking his head as he stared at the Dalek. "I don't believe it. Are you seeing this, Rose?" She slowly nodded, astonished as well, before she started talking to the Dalek. Sherlock laughed, in spite of the Dalek's threats, doubt, and questioning, firing off random shots around them without hitting them. "Sherlock? Sherlock?" He heard John saying on the other end.

Sherlock reached down for his mobile and said, "We're still alive, John. The bloody Dalek is having an identity crisis. I think our DNA must have overloaded his circuits."

"This is not logical." The Dalek said. "This is wrong. Wrong!"

"What?" John gasped as Adam arrived in Van Statten's office and the Dalek appeared with his two captives on the screen, astonishing and cheering up the Doctor to see both Sherlock and Rose alive and well. John wiped away his tears and managed to weakly smile.

It wasn't just Rose's life he had feared for, he realized then, but Sherlock as well and how John would handle such a death. No, despite the chaos, anger, and angst Sherlock had brought into his life, the Doctor wanted his friend to live as well. The Dalek threatened them, and the Doctor gave in, letting them go, but he still had to take care of the Dalek.

Adam showed them his collection of uncatalogued alien artifacts, with John and the Doctor rifling through them until they found suitable weapons. John gripped his tightly, feeling like he was already prepared to fight to save Sherlock and Rose. In that moment, he was actually glad the Doctor was a soldier like him, also prepared to do the same, not like the lame boast Adam had made to try boosting himself.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rose, Sherlock and the Dalek went up in the lift, which Sherlock momentarily thought might make a good joke someday if they survived, but it wasn't funny as the Dalek seemed almost delirious and afraid of what was happening in him, shrieking out questions and strange phrases, some of which Sherlock identified as his own and words that he had heard Rose say. The Dalek confronted Van Statten and Sherlock grimaced as the man begged, almost wishing the Dalek would destroy him, but then Rose held the Dalek back. Sherlock gaped, realizing how fast things had gone downhill and deteriorated with the Dalek if it wanted freedom…that concept was foreign to Daleks, as far as he was aware of.

Was it a trick? Was the Dalek just trying to escape? Sherlock didn't know for sure, but he followed after Rose and the Dalek as she took command of the situation and the creature, although was the Dalek really as powerless and helpless as it pretended to be? He couldn't say, but he was glad when the Dalek fired up at the ceiling and sunlight flooded down, the freshest air and light they had known in what felt like years. Usually he didn't mind where he was or what condition he might be in, but now he felt like he needed such sunlight.

Sherlock stepped back, wary as the outer casing opened, revealing the creature inside, and it was a disgusting, pitiful thing. Could this really be the true Dalek, controlling such a monstrosity? It seemed almost impossible. They both turned around when the Doctor and John arrived, the Doctor fierce and determined to destroy the Dalek, although John realized what was happening and slowly lowered his gun sooner, overtaken with awe and shock at the sight of the exposed Dalek and relief that Sherlock and Rose were truly fine. Was this what they feared, what threatened them, what destroyed? He couldn't believe it.

Sherlock smiled in approval as Rose confronted the Doctor, proud of her strength as he went around to embrace John. He wasn't certain who was right or wrong here, but maybe they both were. John returned the hug and kissed him, not wanting to let go as Rose, the Doctor, and the Dalek spoke to each other. Finally, Rose commanded the Dalek to destroy itself. Sherlock and John watched, amazed and saddened by what was happening as John shivered and Sherlock clutched him tightly. They had each other again, but it still didn't seem right. Life could be painful, Sherlock agreed with the Dalek there, but it still was worth living for in his opinion, especially with friends and a lover like he had.

The Dalek supposedly destroyed itself while the Doctor looked on in disbelief, nothing left, although part of Sherlock wondered if the Dalek was truly dead and gone, or if it had just left. He couldn't tell, though, and he didn't feel like asking so many questions right now. John was tired, they all were, and they just wanted to go and leave this dreadful place behind them forever. Perhaps they were responsible for what happened here, all the more reason for them to leave. They dredged back down to Van Statten's museum, not speaking, but clutching each other tightly for comfort and support. They heard Van Statten screaming as guards dragged him away, but they didn't pay attention to him anymore. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, for what happened." Sherlock whispered as they entered the museum and were confronted with alien artifacts and remains. "I didn't mean for-"

"I got carried away." The Doctor whispered, facing Rose, Sherlock, and John. "I was overwhelmed by what I was facing here. We all were. I'm sorry, too, for what I did or didn't do. I didn't mean for any of this to happen and I know that's true for all of you as well." The others nodded and he sadly smiled as they discussed the end of the Time War and how none of them were leaving.

"Rose! Doctor! Sherlock! John!" Adam cried, racing after them.

"Ugh, Anderson." Sherlock whispered, causing a few stares from John and the Doctor as Rose stifled a laugh.

Adam explained what was going on here and then said, "Rose promised if I helped, I could get on board your spaceship?" His eyes pleaded with the Doctor, glancing at the blue box behind him as he wondered what it was.

Sherlock and the Doctor protested, but Rose insisted and John had no qualms, so eventually Adam did find his way on board the TARDIS, marveling at the giant space. Sherlock suspected things would not go well here and he suspected the Doctor felt the same. They would have to see what happened, and watch out for Adam.


End file.
